


Falling Slowly

by Lorelei_Eve



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, F/M, Loss, Not Canon Compliant, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:31:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorelei_Eve/pseuds/Lorelei_Eve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of District 12 expected Gale and Katniss to end up together, it was the natural progression of their relationship. Tragedy strikes and Katniss finds her life taking a path she had never wanted for herself in order to survive. Without the benefit of time, can she learn to fall in love with her best friend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It is well after dusk when I start slowly up the dirt path through the Seam to the home I share with my sister, Prim, and our mother. The signs of nature all point to late summer, beginning to give way to autumn as the surrounding trees are showing the early stages of changing colors. It won't be long before winter would make its way to the Seam, making an already difficult existence even more challenging. There is never enough food to go around in the best of times and the winter snows force most of the game into hiding. I make a mental note to start curing some of the meat when Gale and I have a surplus in preparation.

All of the seasonal changes, while unwelcome, are to be expected. What is surprising is that the weather has not dipped into freezing temperatures at night yet there is a steady stream of smoke rising from the chimney of our house. I have a strict rule on wasting resources on a fire in the summer. We make a cooked meal only twice a week and make do with leftovers and items I gather in the woods for the rest of the week. The house is stifling in the heat and the fire only makes it more unbearable. Besides, chopping wood is one of my least favorite chores and I can't count on my mother or Prim to take over the burden. We are poor, but we have plenty of old blankets to keep away a summer chill without lighting a fire.

Walking up the dilapidated porch, I can feel the sweltering heat that the fireplace was throwing off already. A deep scowl has already formed between my brows. Without preamble, I waltz in the front door. "Prim, we just cooked yesterday. What's going on?"

Curled up on our ratty old couch is the shaking form of my mother, beneath a mountain of blankets and my sweet sister kneeling next to her, dipping a washcloth into a basin and patting it on my mother's brow. Prim looks up at me with a mixture of concern and hopefulness. "I'm sorry about the fireplace, Katniss. I need to break her fever."

My chest tightens and I let my game bag drop noisily to the ground with a heavy thump. "What's wrong?" I ask cautiously.

Prim bites on her bottom lip thoughtfully, returning her gaze back to our mother and begins wiping her pale brow again. "She's got a fever that I'm trying to sweat out. I'd try an ice bath, but we don't have any ice this time of year. Her lungs sound like they're filled with mucus. Hear that rattle in her chest?"

My stomach begins to turn instantly at the thought of mucus. I can skin a rabbit without a second thought to blood but the first sign of human body fluids sends me running to the woods without hesitation. Over the steady crackle and occasional pop of the fire, I can hear the slow, ragged breaths my mother is taking and I know that this is serious.

I let out a hard breath through my nose and my gray eyes meet Prim's brilliant blue ones. I find myself looking to my little sister for reassurance that she can fix this, that she can heal our mother and everything will be fine. I am in deep over my head and don't know how to begin to make this right.

Even when my mother was catatonic following my father's death to a mine explosion, I was able to hold the house together. We almost starved to death but I was eventually able to scrape enough together to keep us fed and the pension from my father's job as a miner kept a roof over our heads. I wasn't able to prevent my mother from staring endlessly at the walls for hours, drowning in her grief, but I was able to coax her into eating enough to keep her alive. We have a strained relationship, but she's still my mother and I do care about her, even when she wasn't doing her best to care for me and Prim.

I see nothing but worry reflecting back at me in Prim's eyes and my stomach drops. That quiet interaction between the two of us is enough to let me know this is beyond her ability to fix. I turn my gaze to my mother, who has feebly opened her eyes and are staring dimly back at me.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I all but screech, unable to keep the desperation from creeping into my tone. My mother has been a healer her whole life. She should have known if she was getting sick. She should have tried to make herself better before it got to this point.

My mother is barely able to lift her head from the bed in protest and I know fighting with her is a lost cause. She should have said something sooner, simple as that. In Prim's able hands, she could have made a full recovery. As mad as I am at my mother for not speaking up about her illness, I am even more terrified at the prospect of having to nurse her back to health. My mother has the talent and patience for healing. The only thing I'm remotely good at is killing things, which hardly seems like a worthwhile skill in this situation.

I close my eyes and take a few cleansing breaths. I know my outburst has scared Prim and none of this is her fault. I slowly count back from ten in my head and snap into action. I stride across the creaking floorboards of our small, government-issued home and kneel down next to Prim. I keep my eyes stubbornly away from my mother's withering form and instead focus on Prim. Trying to keep my voice steady and full of confidence, I ask, "How can I help? Is there anything you need me to go get? Any tea I can make that will help?"

Prim just shakes her head slowly and I can see her steel herself before looking back at me. I've tried so hard to keep her from the evil in this world. I've tried so hard to provide for her and let her be a little kid, like she deserves. It almost kills me, in that moment, when I realize she's trying to be brave for me.

"I've been giving her some mint tea with chamomile to help her relax. I'm hoping the mint will make her breathing a little easier and the warmth and steam will help open her airway. I mixed together a paste to put on her chest a few hours ago, but it doesn't seem to have done much good. I need to get this fever under control," Prim replies with a frown on her face, as if she could will the fever away with pure determination. If anyone could, it would be Prim.

Standing slowly, my eyes immediately begin scanning our small home, as if it holds some answer and I only have to look hard enough to find it. My eyes fall on yesterday's pot of stew. "Well, the fire is already going. I might as well warm it up for dinner," I say with a small smile.

I'm just thankful to find a task that I can manage to help out. Cooking dinner makes me feel more in my element. Herbs, vegetables, greens, and meat are predictable to me. I can never manage to make it taste as quite as good as Hazelle Hawthorne, my best friend Gale's mom, but it's always edible. Healing a patient is not something I can predict or understand. I set about getting dinner ready while Prim diligently sits next to my mother, caring for her needs.

I'm slightly impressed but mostly annoyed with the fire Prim has managed to build. Not only is it sweltering inside the small room but starting the fire is something normally left to my mother or myself. I'd never forgive myself if Prim burnt herself doing a task that I should have been doing. She's thirteen now and been through two reapings. I know, rationally, it shouldn't bother me that she's growing up and taking on more responsibility, but I've always wanted more for her. We both escaped the colorful clutches of Effie Trinket's fingers just a few weeks ago, and at seventeen, I only have one reaping left. I should be thankful, but it only makes me more nervous. Prim still has five to face and I can't bear the thought that I wouldn't be able to volunteer for her if the odds were not in her favor. The best I can do is keep her from taking out tesserae and hope against hope. We're from the Seam, so the odds are rarely in our favor.

I carefully dish out what is remaining of the stew. I give our mother a significantly smaller share. With how ill she is, I doubt she will be able to eat much and I've never been able to stomach wasting food. Bringing it over carefully, I sit down next to Prim, who looks ready to keep constant vigil over our mother all night. I know begging her to abandon her post will do me no good and some small part of me hopes that her diligence will pay off. We eat silently. I can feel the pit of guilt in my stomach beginning to deepen, that I can't offer Prim any comfort or reassurance. I've never been good with words and I'm too angry at my mother to feel compassionate.

It is fairly late before I am able to convince Prim that she needs to go to bed. We both have school tomorrow and we'll need to be up fairly early to tend to our mother before leaving for the day. Exhausted, Prim is able to fall asleep fairly quickly, but I find myself miles away. I am unable to stop my mind from going to the dark place that I immediately went after the mining explosion killed our father. I'm better able to provide for my family this time around but I don't know how tenderhearted Prim will stand losing another parent. My mother has no option but to get better. I have less faith that my mother has the will herself to get better. I'm haunted by the dead stare she gave me from the couch before we went to bed. She's always been so fragile and it looks like she had already given up. I hoped I'd never see that faraway look on her face again, but tonight I can't seem to get it out of my head. And I hate her for it.

Sleeping on top of the sheets in little more than my underwear and a camisole did little to provide relief from the heat trapped in the house. If only I could get it that warm during the bitter winter months. I wake up before the sun, drenched in sweat, to an empty bed. Prim has already gotten up and I can hear her moving about in the living room, where our mother lies.

For a brief moment, I feel utter terror at what I'll find in the living room. I have no skills as a healer and we have no money for a doctor. She simply must be better this morning.

Except she's not.

If anything she's much, much worse. What little color her delicate Merchant skin has managed to pick up this summer is replaced with a sallow pallor. Her eyes are trained on the ceiling and her eyelids are flickering wildly. Her mouth moves soundlessly, speaking without words to things only she can see. Her lips are dry and cracked. I immediately fly to her side when I see Prim kneeling next to her, trying to coax her into swallowing some water unsuccessfully as is evident by the wet pool on the chest of her dress. Taking Prim's shoulders carefully in my hands, I pull her close and place a kiss on the top of her head.

"Prim, why don't you run down and get Hazelle? I'll get mom cleaned up," I say. I try to keep my voice steady and even, but it ends up sounding hallow. Prim quietly wipes the stray tears from her eyes and stands up, shaking her head in agreement. I can almost see the relief on her face that I've taken charge, even if she knows it's false. She nods and leaves toward the Hawthorne house without hesitation.

It isn't in my nature to be comforting to anyone but Prim, but I can't help taking a damp cloth and pressing it to my mother's brow. I can feel the heat of her fever still ravaging her body and I know there is nothing I can do to stop it. The Capitol has pills that can reduce fever but they'd cost more money than I'd be able to make in a month. I would gladly find the money if I could, but there's just no way I can scrape together enough in time to help her. I can only hope that Hazelle has an idea. I know full well Prim has tried everything within her power, but I find myself rising to get our plant book, hoping that I can find something that has been overlooked.

Prim bursts through the door with Hazelle on her heels and, to my surprise, Gale follows closely behind. We lock eyes the moment he steps through the front doorway. He's dressed in his sooty mining clothes and clutching his lunch pail in his hand, obviously on his way to work. The sun is beginning to sneak through the east facing kitchen window, so he only has a few minutes before he'll have to leave to catch the elevator, on its way down to the very heart of our district. I feel relief at his presence. He's always been so much better in the face of an emergency than me. A thousand emotions bubble beneath the surface of his gray eyes so very like my own, but one ultimately wins out. Without saying a word, I know he'll stand by my side and help me however he can. While this is my burden to bear, I know he'll help me carry it. Gale always has my back.

In the few fleeting moments, Gale and I silently communicate. Hazelle has made her way with Prim to my mother's side. The worry etched on her face is unmistakeable and I quickly steel my features. I need to be strong for Prim.

Prim is quietly explaining the ways she's tried to break our mother's fever unsuccessfully. Gale appears silently at my side and I don't protest when he takes my hand. We're two halves of a whole and I need to draw on his strength.

Hazelle turns to me, "Katniss, why don't you and Prim get ready for school and run back to my house and grab the little kids. I left Rory to feed Vick and Posy. I'll stay here with your mother today."

I'm just about to protest when I feel Gale's grip tighten. He's silently begging me to allow her to help. I know they depend on Hazelle's laundry business to stay ahead and a day spent here is a day's wages lost. I'm uncomfortable owing them so much but I know I'd do the same if our roles were reversed.

"Thanks Hazelle, I just..." and the rest dies on my lips. She already knows. I give Gale's hand one last squeeze and hurry off to dress for school. Not for the first time I find myself wishing it were spring and we were done for the year. I'm in my final year of school and, now more than ever, learning about coal production is completely worthless to me.

I come back out to see Gale has started boiling a pot of water for tea over the coals from last night's fire. Tea will have to suffice for this morning and I go to wrap up the last bit of bread and some goat cheese from Lady for Prim's lunch. With his silent tread, he comes over to stand next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. "Catnip, everything will be okay. We'll figure this all out."

He's looking at me so sincerely that I almost believe him. I need to believe him. I can't manage a smile, but press my lips together unconvincingly.

"I'll stop by to check on you guys when I get home from work," Gale says softly. I can see a brief moment of contempt at the mention of work flit across his chiseled face. I nod once and watch him stride out the door.

Prim kneels down and gives our mother a kiss on her burning forehead, telling her to get better and we'll be back before she knows it. Although I want to scream at my mother, I do reach down and squeeze her hand tightly before herding Prim out the door. I wouldn't be going at all if I wouldn't get in trouble from the Peacekeepers. And, if I'm being honest, I'm terrified to be around my mother so sick.

We pick up Rory, Vick, and Posy with a brief moment's detour to remind Vick he's managed to put his shirt on inside out and head to school. Posy's hand is swinging easily in mine and she's chatting happily about the pictures they're going to be drawing in class today and how high she's able to go on the swings at recess. It's her first year at school and everything is new and exciting still. It's a welcome distraction from the situation with my mother. I can't help but think how much she reminds me of Prim at her age, despite the obvious differences in appearance between the two girls.

The rest of the day does not provide as much of a distraction as Posy Hawthorne. I'm convinced the clock is moving backwards, with how slowly the day is passing, but we're finally released. I round up the little kids quickly and head towards home ahead of them.

I've spent the entire day scheming ways to get enough money for the fever pills from the doctor in town. I've almost convinced myself if I manage to sell everything of value in the house, hunt throughout the night and, with a bit of luck, manage to get a deer, I'll be able to afford them. That hope is quickly shattered when I see Hazelle Hawthorne sitting on the front porch step of our home. Her knees are drawn up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. Dread and pity are evident in her eyes and I just simply know.

In one moment, all time and movement of the earth seems to stand still. This can't be happening. No, not like this. This can't be how this ends. I want to scream and rage and cry and blame someone. With what little restraint I have left, the back of my mind tells me I have hold it together for Prim. She hasn't figured it out yet.

"Prim, walk Posy and the boys home."

"Katniss, I wanted to check on mother-" she argues.

"Prim, just do it!" I say in the most forceful voice I can manage, and immediately regret it.

Tears start to fill her eyes but she solemnly nods. I've never been so harsh with her before and she certainly doesn't deserve it now. The four of them walk towards the Hawthorne home without a backwards glance. Good, I think, I don't want an audience.

Hazelle rises to her feet, wraps her arms around my shoulder, and guides me up the front porch to the door. She stops me just short of walking in the house. "Katniss," she begins, her voice thick with emotion, "she, she fell asleep around noon. The rattling in her chest just keep getting worse and I couldn't do anything for her fever. She didn't wake up, honey."

I hear a choking sound and I'm pulled tightly into Hazelle's embrace. I barely recognize that I'm sobbing but she's holding me, rocking me back and forth, and whispering "shhh" gently in my ear. There are too many thoughts swirling around my head and I can't seem to get a grasp on any of them.

I don't know how long we stand on the porch like that, but I'm eventually able to calm down and pull back.

"I need to see her, before Prim..." A fresh round of tears spring to my eyes. My poor Little Duck. She's so tenderhearted and already lost so much. I don't know how I'm going to do this.

Hazelle nods and leads me through the front door. She's lying exactly where I left her this morning. Her eyes are closed, hands folded over the blanket that's been pulled up to her chest. I could almost believe she was sleeping, but her skin has already begun to take on a waxy, unnatural sheen. The most obvious detail I notice is the lack of rise and fall of her chest; how unearthly still the whole room is. I'm unable to form a coherent thought but my mind has already begun to catalog everything about the moment.

I'm shaking like a leaf when I turn back around to Hazelle. "I... I don't know how to tell..."

"I'll tell her, Katniss. We'll get her together and I'll tell her. You just... you hold her, honey," Hazelle says gently. I can't do anything but nod.

I let her guide me to her house, barely noticing my feet moving beneath me. I can feel the panic rising from my gut as we walk up the front steps. Prim is sitting at the table with Posy in her lap, helping her with her homework. Uncharacteristically, both boys are also bent over theirs as well. Prim has always had a way of creating order and encouraging the right action from others. I don't know how I'm going to do this.

"Boys, take you sister out back. I left some laundry on the line that needs folding," Hazelle commands, leaving no room for argument.

"Come on, Pose," Rory says, taking her little hand. He gives Prim one last glance before heading out and I can't help but see Gale in his gray eyes.

I follow Hazelle over to the table and we both kneel down next to Prim. I can see the terror in her eyes and I struggle to keep my composure. I can do this. I have to do this for her.

I tune out Hazelle's words, but the trembling bottom lip and tears in Prim's eyes sends me into action. I hold her close like I used to, when she was small and scared of the occasional storm. I can only pray its enough, even though I know it'll never be enough. We're all each other has. She's become my lifeline, and I will do whatever I have to for her. In a tangled heap of limbs, tears, and grief on the Hawthorne's wooden floor, I hold Prim. If we can just hold onto each other, we might be able to make it.

I barely notice Gale's entrance sometime later, but welcome his arms when he silently drops to the floor beside us, tucking us both in close. I let him hold us together because I'm terribly afraid that I won't be able to.


	2. Chapter 2

We set my mother to rest on a Wednesday evening. Autumn has settled in for the long haul and the cold, dreary, damp weather matched the somber mood of those few in attendance.

It's tradition to send the dead off with a song but I can't bring myself to sing. When my father died there had been a ceremony at the Justice Building and medals handed out to the families. I didn't realize it at the time, but it was a blessing in disguise that there wasn't a body to recover. What little money I have been able to put away from a fairly bountiful summer was spent on a cheap wood coffin and an unmarked grave among the masses of the Seam poor long dead in the District's cemetery. I didn't have enough to cover the costs entirely and had to borrow from the Hawthorne's, shame filling my already guilt ridden heart.

Prim and I have been staying with them since our mother died. The Capitol had places to take the dead where they were preserved and dressed up for viewing. We don't have the luxury of that in District 12 so the body stays where it is until the family can scrape enough together for a burial. Doing it yourself isn't an option either, "indecent disposal" is a crime punishable by lashing. A punishment almost as disgusting as the terminology. Neither of us could stand the thought of sleeping in the house with her so we camped out on the floor at the Hawthorne's. I am not looking forward to returning to the house after but we've imposed on them long enough.

An official from the Justice Building says some generic words about how Susannah Everdeen had been a good wife, mother, and citizen to the Capitol. The more he drones on about her service and commitment to Panem the more I realized that he didn't know her at all. This was clearly a speech that had been made many times for all different kinds of people. The end result was the same regardless, they lived and died under the Capitol.

Prim is crying silently under my arm. I have no comforting words to give her. I still haven't worked out my feelings towards my mother. I am angry for her not speaking up sooner and for leaving me with Prim to care for by myself. I am angry at myself for resenting her, for not being able to save her, and for not telling her I loved her before I left for school. I know she deserves to have someone that cares for her say something more than the Capitol's meaningless words but I can't find it in me to do it.

I shouldn't have been as surprised as I am that Gale steps forward to say something before the dirt could be shoveled back in the deep hole that has swallowed up my mother.

In his deep baritone, Gale is able to put into words what I'd never be able to. "Susannah Everdeen loved her family. She loved her husband so much she gave up a life of relative ease to become a coal miner's wife. She helped countless sick and injured when they couldn't afford a doctor. She cared so deeply that she would sometimes lose herself. Despite everything, she truly loved her daughters. She will be missed."

He presses his three right fingers to his lips and holds them up to the sky, closing his eyes. The remaining Hawthorne's, Prim, and I do the same. I know we were all saying goodbye in our own ways.

Knowing this was really it, I press Prim forward towards the grave. We each take a handful of dirt and throw it into the hole. It makes a deafening thud as it collides with the wooden coffin at the bottom and I can't help but cringe. Prim is crying freely so it is easier to focus my attention on her rather than the earth swallowing up my mother behind me.

As much as I am dreading heading home, I know Prim needs a sense of normalcy and time to grieve in private. We've been surrounded by people for the last two days and I need to get her home and figure out just what normal look like now. Hazelle hugs us both, herding up her brood, and promises to look in on us tomorrow. I am incredibly thankful that she seems to know what I need and when without me having to voice it. I'm barely able to get a grip on things myself, I don't know how to ask for help even if I didn't already owe her. I know I'll never be able to repay her for everything she's done for us but I will certainly try my best. I grab Prim's hand firmly and we both walk away from the graveyard, trying, and failing, to ignore the sound of dirt being thrown back into the final resting place of our mother.

We haven't been home but a few minutes before there is a loud pounding on the door. Two peacekeepers are standing on my front porch in their official, crisp white uniforms. I recognize the younger, redheaded man in the back, Darius, from the Hobb. He's always enjoyed making a game out of teasing me about trading my rabbits for kisses. The usual mirth is gone from his eyes and the pit of worry in my stomach deepens. The older man is clearly the senior officer with his salt and pepper hair, frown lines, and clipboard of official documents.

"Are you Katniss Everdeen, 17, daughter of Susannah and Baylock Everdeen?" The older peacekeeper says without introduction.

"Yes..."

"And your sister, Primrose Everdeen, 13, is she around?" He continues checking his clipboard. My eyes flit to Darius, hoping for an explanation. I can see the shame in his eyes for a brief moment before he stares pointedly at his shoes.

"She's in the house." I say carefully.

"We've reassigned this house, you'll have fifteen minutes to collect your things and come with us."

"What are you talking about? Reassigned? We've lived here with our parents our entire life..." I hate the squeaky quality my voice has taken.

"The house was assigned to a Baylock Everdeen, since deceased. The beneficiary of his pension from the mining company is a Susannah Everdeen, also deceased. That means you and your sister are trespassing on government owned property. We can do this the easy way, where you gather your sister and your things and come with us or we can can use force." He drones on with a slight annoyance to his voice, shifting his weight impatiently.

"But they're our parents.

The shrill of my voice has drawn Prim's attention and I groan inwardly as she steps out the front door to the porch. "Katniss, what's going?"

"Nothing Prim, go back inside, I'll..."

Cutting me off, the peacekeeper responds, "As you have no legal guardian left living and the productivity of the industry is of utmost importance, you'll be going to the Community Home. Go collect your things."

Prim goes stiff with shock and I move to put my arm around her shoulders. I can feel the bile rising in my throat and panic in my chest. Our raised voices have drawn the attention of a few neighbors that have peaked their heads out of their house and are looking on curiously. I'm too scared to find it in myself to feel a sense of shame. Looking past the older man I plead to Darius, "There has to be some other way, something we can do! Please, don't do this."

The older peacekeeper lets out an annoyed huff as if he'd rather be anywhere else but is cut off by Darius.

"Katniss the houses in the Seam are assigned to the miners. You have to either work there or be married to someone who does to keep the assignment. They're reserved for the citizens that are able to contribute meaningful work to the District."

I can tell he's pleading with me to keep quiet about my ability to provide for Prim through my illegal hunting and trading. My mind is racing, trying to figure out what hidden option he is giving me. Wracking my brain and trying to keep my hands trembling with panic and adrenaline I blurt out, "I'm signing up to work. Tomorrow morning. I'm voluntarily leaving school early and going to work."

I can see the pained expression on Darius's face as he clenches his jaw but subtle nod that I've come to the right conclusion. The older peacekeeper frowns slightly, obviously upset that things aren't going according to plan. Before I can gage the effectiveness of my statement I see Gale thundering up the path to my house. His chiseled face looks positively murderous and his fists are clenched tightly at his side. He pushes past both men and stands next to me on the porch. He's missed the majority of the interaction but I can tell I don't need to catch him up to speed. I don't have time to consider what this means before he starts talking.

"They've just buried their mother an hour ago! How dare you?"

Darius has the sense to look abashed and stares back at his feet, red flaming up his neck to match the shocking color of his hair. The older man, however, straightens his back and throws his shoulders back.

"We're doing our damn job. There are two minors trespassing on government property by being in this house and we're here to remove them. Fact of the matter is, we need the space and I know you know the rules about government pension, Hawthorne."

Gale's eyes turn to liquid steel and he steps slightly in front of me. "Give us two days. Just two days. They've just buried their mother."

The older man considers it for a moment. Looking around the neighborhood, far more than just a few curious neighbors have emerged and I can see him assessing the likelihood of him getting out of here without a fight. "Two days. If she hasn't signed up to work by the it'll be to the Community Home with them."

He turns sharply on his heels and stalks off down the road back towards town, Darius trailing closely behind him.

Prim bursts into tears as soon as they've left our yard. I gather her up into my arms and direct her back into the house, Gale stepping in front of us to usher us through the door. I stroke her hair and pull her into my arms as we sit on the couch. My eyes immediately find Gale's. "Explain. Now."

He runs his hand through his hair like I've seen him do countless times under stress. The second stretch into eternity but I don't let up the intensity of my gaze. Letting out a breath he says, "I didn't think they'd actually do this. You're less than a year away from eighteen..."

He trails off but I wait for him to continue. Gale's never been one for words so I know he's trying to find the right way to explain everything to me. "The houses aren't issued to a family Catnip, it's to the miner. Period. We're lucky they allow the spouse to stay in the event something happens or we'd both been homeless a while ago. That's the way it's set up."

I can feel the anger boiling under the surface of my skin. He's known this was a possibility for days and said nothing. I can't stand to look at him right now. "Please leave. Now. I... I can't do this right now."

Gale looks like he's going to protest but nods his head despondently at me. He knows I need to cool down and I've got too much to deal with between the peacekeepers and Prim to deal with my anger at him right now. He quietly walks out the door, throwing one last sympathetic look my way. I scowl back in return.

I manage to calm Prim down enough fall asleep. I've spent the last hour lying to her, telling her everything will be fine. I don't think she believes me but I don't have enough hope to spare for the both of us at the moment.

I feel guilty leaving her alone in case she wakes up but for the sake of my own sanity, I have to get out of the house. The stress of the last few days is making me feel like the walls are closing in on me. I need to figure out what I'm going to do. Darius and Gale bought us a few days but I can't possibly make this decision sitting in the living room I've been told isn't really mine.

My feet take me on the familiar path to the opening in the sometimes electrified fence surrounding the District and I can feel my chest tightening. I've lost my father to the Capitol and now they're telling me they own both me and my sister until we're 18. I didn't realize just how far their reach and control went. It's enough to make me want to slip into the woods with Prim and never come back. I could keep us fed but Prim would never go for it. The one time I tried to take her out and show her the snare line, she was a crying, terrified mess before we'd even lost sight of the fence.

The same fence that is currently electrified. I curse under my breath. I ball my fists at my sides and let out a pained huff. The pit of anxiety and tension in my stomach threatens to spill over and I find myself running before it can turn into tears. I can't seem to find one small reprieve.

I try to focus on the pounding of my feet on the earth and the short spurts of breath exiting my lunges but my mind is racing. My arms pumping at my sides, urging me to go further, faster, harder, is not enough to stop the thoughts of utter despair. I've spent the last six years doing everything in my power to hold my family together, to survive. I've kept Prim from taking out tesserae, I've spent my extra waking hours hunting to feed us, I've taken over the household tasks when my mother was lost in her own grief and it's still not enough. Nothing I'll ever do is going to be enough.

Out of breath I slow and find myself in Victor's Village. The irony is not lost on me. If by some miracle you are able to survive the Hunger Games, the Capitol puts you up in a house ten times the size of anything in the Seam and you are allowed to live out your days in luxury. With one living Victor, the remaining eleven homes stand silent and still, a haunting reminder that the odds are never in our favor in District 12. They can afford to have eleven homes standing empty on the edge of the District but due to productivity and space demands Prim and I are being turned out of the only place we've ever known.

Unable to stand the injustice of it, I pick up a rock from the dirt street and hurl it towards the empty monstrosity before me. The thud it makes as it connects with the brightly painted siding is immensely satisfying and I find myself picking up another. I launch stone after stone at the empty building, letting out a guttural, unearthly scream with each throw as if I could somehow expel my own pain just as easily. It's not until my eyes are blurring with tears that my usually deadly accuracy fails and I hear the sound of a window shattering into a million pieces that I collapse into a heap in the middle of the street, my sobs coming in stomach wrenching gasps.

The cackling from the front porch alerts me that I am not alone in my tirade. I'm embarrassed to have an audience to my breakdown and I hastily swipe the evidence from my eyes, streaking my face with dirt in the process, and stand uneasily to my feet towards the sound.

"Just you and that rock against the Capitol, eh Sweetheart?" The lone victor, Haymitch Abernathy's voice slurs across the yard.

"Shut up you old drunk." I spit back at him. My tears are instantly transformed back to rage. My head is swirling with the whiplash of emotions.

Ever since he won in the 50th Hunger Games, he's managed to keep Ripper, the District's one armed moonshine expert in business single handedly with his habit. He has yet to bring another kid home from the games in twenty five years. Despite his sloppy, drunken state, through the moonlight I can see the quality of his fine woven shirt, and instantly hate him.

"Ain't going to do you any good. They'll win in the end. They always do." He says taking a long draw from a bottle in a paper bag, smirking at me slightly.

"I'm sure you know all about being on the losing end of things sitting there with your whiskey on the porch of your big house." I say, unable to keep the venom from my voice.

In that brief moment I can see the seasoned, hardened killer that fought his way through a triple team of careers during the 50th games. His eyes steel and his voice drops dangerously low. He stands up surprisingly steady on his feet to his full height. "I know more about selling your soul to the Capitol than you'll ever imagine. I would have thought you were smart enough to realize winning ain't all it's cracked up to be. You'd best to remember that. Everything you have is because they allow you to have it. Now get the hell out of my sight."

I'm still angry but the hunting knife laying on the arm chair within his reach and the glare he gives me as he settles back into his chair and brings the bottle back to his lips has taken the wind out of my sails. I slink back to the Seam, absolutely physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted, thinking about how Haymitch said the Capitol always wins in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review if you like... 
> 
> Big thanks to Clara Meliza for offering to beta for me. She is beyond amazing. I'm going to go back and reupload her edited version of Chapter 1 and I'll do the same when she has a chance to get to this one. I have a past/present tense problem.


	3. Chapter 3

I had every intention of sneaking out of the house and hunting this morning before Prim woke up, but I am surprised to see her sitting at the kitchen table, hair in a mess, and clutching a cup of tea between her hands.

"Katniss, I'm not letting you shut me out of this one," she says calmly. "Let's talk about what we're going to do."

I hate that she has to be a part of this. I hate even more that we even have to have this discussion. I hate the most that she feels like she needs to bear any of the burden. It kills me a little inside to see her wrapped up in one of our mom's old housecoats, with her blond hair and blue eyes, looking every bit the responsible adult my mother should have been.

"Oh, Prim, I don't want you to worry about it. Let's just pack up our stuff today and head back to the Hawthorne's. I figured it all out last night. It's going to be just fine," I assure her gently. I'm flying by the seat of my pants. My plan is the same as yesterday. I'll leave school, work my shift at the mine, and come home to the house they can't take away from us. It'll be harder to hunt and make ends meet, but I don't have any other choice. I just hope it'll be enough for them to let me keep Prim. I won't be eighteen until May, a good eight months away, but just maybe keeping her with an employed relative is a better use of resources than taking her away. I don't think this has occurred to her yet and I don't want to worry her anymore than I have to. However, I can tell I haven't convinced her and she's more than a bit annoyed at me for treating her like a child.

"You don't have to protect me like this, Katniss."

"I know," I tell her, even though I don't believe it. She's the one innocent, good thing left in the world. Of course I have to protect her.

"I can help out, too. We can sell the milk and cheese from the goat." She gives me a hopeful smile.

"I know you can. Thanks," I tell her, giving her the first genuine smile I've been able to manage in days.

"I've got to get out before the sun gets too high," I tell her, thankful to have an exit. I don't want to lie to her anymore than I already have. "We don't have much, so just put it all in the trunk in the back of the closet and get Rory to drag it over."

"I will. And don't be mad at Gale," she reprimands. I can't help but scowl, more so at him than her. "He was just trying to protect you, Katniss. He's always trying to protect you."

"He shouldn't keep things like that from me, Prim. I could have figured something out sooner instead of being blindsided. It was humiliating," I begrudgingly tell her. I give her a quick hug and head out towards the woods.

It isn't until I'm almost to the fence that I realize what a difficult task packing our things will be and that I shouldn't have left Prim to do it alone. For a half a second, I think about turning around, but I can't bring myself to. Facing all those memories is more than I can handle right now. I put one foot in front of the other and keep going, ignoring the pit of guilt in my stomach that just keeps getting bigger.

I make it to our usual meeting place and am surprised that Gale hasn't arrived yet. My slight detour with Prim has made me a bit more late than I usually am. I'm thankful for the alone time to just sit and process everything. My "processing" is really just me staring dejectedly at my shoes as I allow myself some selfishness. I feel the weight of this awful week building up like a dam and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold it back.

Just when I think I can convince myself to head out without him, he emerges from the thick wood. His eyes are alert and he has my father's old bow slung over his shoulder. He reads my face for a few moments before he nods, acknowledging that I'm not ready to hunt just yet. We sit in silence for a long while. It is comforting to be alone with your thoughts in the presence of someone else.

"I hope I wasn't out of line, talking at the funeral," Gale says suddenly. "I just thought someone should say something."

"It was fine," I say, unable to bring my eyes up to his face. "Thanks."

He nods. I don't need to tell him why I wasn't able to or how much it really meant to me that he did it in my stead. He already knows. I'm still angry at him for not telling me how the pension works, but I can't bring myself to work up the energy to fight with him about it now.

Swallowing my pride and trying to take Prim's advice, I say, "I shouldn't have gotten so mad at you yesterday. You were only trying to help."

He nods and accepts my unspoken apology.

"Katniss, I'd really like to talk about..."

"Just stop, Gale. You and your family have already done more than enough for Prim and I. I can't let you do anymore. It's a done deal. I have to do this," I say with as much force as I can manage. In truth, I'm absolutely exhausted and don't have the strength to get into a lengthy debate with Gale.

"No, Katniss, I won't just stop," he replies harshly. I'm taken back by the force behind his voice. As much as I wanted to avoid this, I realize he's not going to just let it go. "Prim's lost both her parents. You're still in school and I won't hear of you dropping out. And I know you're not going to let her go to a Community Home, where she'll end up hungry and taking out tesserae every year. "

Bringing up the Community Home is a low blow and he knows it. With five more reapings ahead of her and the fact that I've managed to keep her from applying for the past two years, he's absolutely right. Community Home kids are required to sign up for tesserae. It's their primary form of nourishment, when the deliveries actually happen on time. Prim wouldn't survive the every man for himself mentality of the home to begin with, and I'd never resign her to that fate. I see nothing wrong with dropping out of school – it's been useless for years – but never finishing does limit the mining jobs and pay that I'd be able to receive. It isn't unheard of to not finish school, but it's definitely rare. It's just another thing to add to the long list of ways that the Capitol is able to keep the districts completely at their mercy. If I could have just held out a few more months until spring, I'd be able to make a lot more. Women are still paid less than men, but the penalty for not finishing school will make it nearly impossible to survive on. Still, a roof over our heads is what I need right now.

Gritting my teeth, I reply, "I know the pay won't be the same, but in order to keep the house, I've got to do it. There isn't any way out of this."

He's looking at me intensely. "What if there were?"

"What are you talking about, Gale? Of course there isn't! Don't you think I would have tried that route already?"

"Just hear me out. Can you do that, Katniss? For once in your life, can't you just listen?" Gale asks. I can detect the undertones of pleading in his voice, but only because I know him so well.

"Sure, go ahead," I comply. I refuse myself to be hopeful. I've thought of every angle and I doubt he's been able to think of anything I haven't.

"The houses are issued based on occupation, right? How much you provide for the Capitol determines where you get to live," he spits out, hardly containing the venom in his voice. "The head of the household is issued a house and their pension provides that their spouse gets to remain there if something happens, right?"

I nod. He's not telling me anything new and it's annoying me.

"So you just need a new head of household," he states simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

I roll my eyes. "Yes, Gale. I know. That's why I'm going to go work in the mines."

"No, Katniss. That's why I'm going to." He takes a deep breath. "You just have to marry me."

Those two words knock the air right out of my lungs. I feel like I've been punched in the gut. He can't be serious. He, more than anyone, knows exactly how I feel about marriage.

"Gale... I... but we, we aren't together like that... I mean..." I stutter. My head is swirling.

"I know, Katniss. I just don't see any other way." He's taken my hand in his, pleading with me to understand. I've never seen such intensity reflecting back at me from his gray eyes. He's dead serious.

"Gale, it's fine. I can do this. You and your family have already done too much for me. There's no way I'll ever be able to repay you. I can't ask you to do that," I beg him to understand. I'm have enough debt towards Gale Hawthorne as it is.

"Catnip, you can't do that to Prim. What happens to her when you get yourself blown up in the mines?" he asks, his voice raising slightly.

I'm immediately angry that he thinks I can't do the same job he does. "You've managed to come out alive every day for the last year. I'm pretty sure I can handle it. Prim isn't your's to take care of, she's mine."

"Katniss, she's been like a sister to me for years. She's not going to the Community Home and you're not going to the mines. End of story." The stoniness to his voice gives me chills. Rationally, I know he cares for Prim like a sister, but I can't let him do this.

I can feel my blood boiling. Sure, I can marry him, and we'll be issued a house. I'll even concede that it's a good way to ensure we get to keep it as long as Gale or I are living. It's not such a different agreement from the one we had back when we were both eligible for reapings. If something happened to one of us, the other couldn't volunteer. We promised to look after the other's family. He sees this as a natural extension of that.

What I can't see is being someone's wife. I saw how well that worked out for my mother. She completely lost herself after my father died and I refuse to put myself or my children through that. I don't want kids. I have always been adamant that I don't want kids. Marriage, in the Seam, always results in kids. Birth control isn't something the Capitol allows us to have access to. My mother used to know a tea that did just that, but it's not like she'd be around to make it for me. I don't even want to think about knowing my best friend that intimately. Is he thinking about that? I'm struck with a sense of panic. Without thinking, I've risen to my feet and begin walking away from our rock.

"You can't walk away from this one, Katniss. I'm not letting you leave here until you see reason," he says sternly, grabbing my wrist to stop my escape.

"I can see reason, Gale, which is why I never wanted to get married in the first place," I spit back at him, my words barbing like shrapnel. I have to make him understand this.

He lets out a breath in a loud huff. "Katniss, all you'll have to do is sign your name on a piece of paper. We can go to the Justice Building tomorrow and be done with it. Just let me do this. All I want is to keep you and Prim safe."

The sincerity in his voice is mirrored in his stormy gray eyes and I know he means it. "I need to think about it," I reply weakly.

"No, you don't, Catnip. You're going to do this." he says, his eyes cataloging my features carefully. What I really hate is that I do know it and so does he. "If I let you go home to think on it, you'll just torture yourself all night. You haven't been sleeping as it is."

I can't help but frown at him. I thought I'd been fairly quiet at night when I was staying at the Hawthorne's. It's true, I haven't been sleeping. The pit of worry in my stomach has been too much to handle, so I toss and turn all night. I didn't need anyone else to know, though. They've all done enough. The tension is gone from his face and I'm able to pull my wrist out of his grasp. I sink back down on the rock next to him with a dejected flop.

"So, how does this work?" I ask tentatively.

I can hear the subtle smugness in his voice. He's won and he knows it. "We'll go back and tell Hazelle. We can head up to the Justice Building tomorrow morning before I head to work and sign the paper work."

I tense up at the thought of telling Hazelle. Of course, Gale notices and laughs at me. "You didn't think we wouldn't have to tell anyone, did you, Catnip? My mother might notice that I've suddenly stopped coming home at night or that you've changed your name."

I feel an irrational sense of loss at the thought of changing my name. Everdeen is my tie to my father. It already feels like he fades a little more each day. This will be one more thing about me he wouldn't recognize. It's something that I'll just have to swallow because it's a mandatory requirement of getting married. The Capitol likes to know whom has ties to whom easily.

I don't know how to respond so I just don't. We sit there in silence for a while. The sun is getting higher in the sky and we've wasted most of the morning fighting. It'll be a miracle to be able to find any game with all the noise we've been making. I give Gale a look and we both rise to our feet. We can at least check the snare line and hope for the best.

Two measly rabbits to share between us and we're heading back towards the house. I desperately needed the rejuvenation of the routine in the forest, but there's just too much going through my head to feel revitalized. Fall has always been a bit depressing, anyway. The weather turns colder, the sun doesn't shine quite as bright, and the falling leaves mark the end of summer and the beginning of a cruel winter. It reflects the sense of loss and complete, utter lack of control I seem to have over my life the past few days.

Hazelle is standing in the back yard hanging up the laundry, the white linens flapping in the breeze and looking impossibly out of place among the soot stained houses in the Seam. I could accept that Gale's idea was my only option in the quiet of our woods, but the steady hum of the machines below our feet in the mines and haggard appearance of our neighbors is a reminder that this will have to be public and real. It's not just Gale and I in the woods, two friends looking out for each other's back. Vick and Posy are playing a game of tag in the dirt-covered front yard while Prim and Rory are sitting on the front step peeling potatoes. The picturesque domestic scene is a harsh reality of what everyone will expect from us if we go through with it. While the thought strikes terror into my very core, Gale seems immediately lighter, taking in his family.

"We'll talk to Hazelle after the kids go to bed," he says, giving me a reassuring smile. I know he means to take the pressure off for the moment, but I can't help the sense of dread I feel as I follow him to the back to begin cleaning the game.

I move through dinner barely noticing what I'm eating. I'm nervous to talk to Hazelle and I don't know what I'll tell Prim. I've been trying to keep the worst of it from her. She knows we need to figure out a new living situation, but I've allowed her the false hope that we'll just stay with the Hawthornes. She's lost too much already. I can't put this burden on her.

I volunteer to do the dishes while Hazelle corrals the kids to get washed up and ready for bed. Bath time proves to be a slight more inconvenience because Prim and I aren't related to the others and we're all too old for a wash tub in the middle of the living room by the fire. The solution is to move it to the back bedroom that Hazelle and Posy share and take turns, but it's much colder and takes twice a long. I find myself drumming my fingers on the counter and fighting to keep my leg from bouncing with nerves. I can't help the annoyed looks I keep throwing at Gale across the room. He's completely at ease, sharpening his hunting knife and talking to Rory. If he's worried about telling his mother, he gives no outward sign.

Prim gives me a hug good night and takes Posy's hand to head back to the girl's bedroom. Gale punches both his brothers in the arm and wishes them a good night, giving his mother a pointed look. I realize this isn't the first time he's stayed up at night to discuss something he doesn't want the other kids to hear. He really has played the role of the man of the house, sharing equal responsibility with Hazelle on making decisions. I'm asking him to give up that for Prim and I. My own helplessness is overwhelming and I hate it.

Gale walks over to the kitchen cabinet and pulls out three mugs. Without words, Hazelle takes the kettle off it's perch in the hearth over the coals from dinner, and sets it down on a hot pad lying on the table. Their movements orbiting around each other in the kitchen look like a well-practiced dance. I don't know where I fit in, so I simply take a seat at the table, accepting the mug with a quiet but heartfelt "thanks". I'm glad to have something to do with my hands.

Gale takes a seat on my right, sitting directly across from his mother. He's inched his chair closer than normal and shoots me one last reassuring glance. "Ma, Katniss and I are going to get married."

Unabashed, unapologetic, strong, and to the point. Gale makes no explanation or excuse, but states it as unarguable fact.

Hazelle looks between the two of us for a minute that feels like eternity before her face splits into a wide smile. Tears in her eyes, she claps my hands that are clutching my mug like a lifeline between hers. My adrenaline spikes and a thousand words race through my mind, none of which seem right. I fully expect her to reprimand us for being so young, or tell us that it's bad timing, so soon after my mother's death, or a million other things. I didn't expect her to seem so happy about it.

I brave a glance at Gale, who gives me a lopsided smile. I try to control the anger flaring up and keep my face neutral. I don't know how he knew, but somehow, he knew she'd be happy for us. He also knew I've been sweating it out for the past couple hours and didn't think to mention to me that I didn't have anything to worry about. You haven't heard the end of this yet, Gale Hawthorne.

Looking back at her son, she exclaims, "I just knew it! The two of you weren't fooling anybody."

Funny, we sure fooled me. Gale's my best friend. He knows me better than anyone and he's lucky enough to be the only person that has my trust, but any kind of romantic relationship between us just never occurred to me. I care about him like he's family. That, and good hunting partners are hard to come by. Girls at school whisper about him in the halls and I've heard a rumor or two about his Friday night activities, but I've never paid much attention to it. He's simply Gale.

Pulling me to my feet, she tells me, "I know most girls like to wear their Momma's dress, but you're quite a bit taller than your Momma was. I still have my dress, if you'd like. It's probably a little faded. It was yellow, but as the best laundress in the Seam, I'm pretty sure I could dye it another color," she says, giving me a sweet smile.

I don't know what to say, but she's already dropped my hands and tiptoeing quietly to her and Posy's shared bedroom. I turn around and glare at Gale. I'm afraid of her overhearing if I speak aloud, but the message is clear. He'd better fix this. I'm not wearing a dress and we're not planning anything. His lips twitch to smile before my glare causes him to think twice. He gives me a quick nod and I know I don't have to be the one to tell her we're not having a real toasting.

My heart sinks when I see her delicately clutching a pale yellow dress. It is easily the nicest thing I've ever seen in Hazelle's possession. The neckline is square cut and the soft satin fabric caps over at the shoulders and flows down gently in a knee length silhouette. She holds it up to me and I notice the long row of tiny buttons all the way down the back. Buttons are expensive, so this detail makes the dress quite extravagant by Seam standards. She sees me eying it and explains, "My Pa insisted on buying me a new dress when I married Gale's father. We had quite a long engagement so he could save up. You can wear this and you won't have to wait."

I can read between the lines and understand that she knows the timing has everything to do with my mother. Gale's been standing back, leaning casually on the table, his arms folded over his chest, quietly watching us. He clears his throat and we both draw our attention back to him. "Ma, we weren't planning on anything big. We thought we'd just head down to the Justice Building tomorrow and sign the paperwork."

Before Hazelle can reply, a loud flutter of bare feet thud across the living room floor from the back bedroom. Prim is stalking out with determination and disapproval written all over her face. "Katniss, you're not going to the Justice Building and signing some papers. If you're going to do this, you're doing it right. We'll dye Hazelle's dress a pretty green color, I'll braid your hair, and you'll do a proper toasting."

It's evident she's been hovering in the door much longer than we realized. Hazelle probably woke her when she went to get the dress, if she was ever sleeping to begin with.

"Little Duck, we don't need to go through all of that. Gale doesn't mind and you know I don't care..." I look over to Gale, who has thrown his hands up in a surrendering gesture. Traitor.

Changing tactics, Prim throws her arms around my middle and looks up at me with her baby blue eyes glistening. "Katniss, Momma and Daddy would have wanted you to do it right. Please? Hazelle and I will do all the work. You'll just have to show up." She looks over to Hazelle for confirmation, who nods brightly.

Prim knows I can't deny her anything. It broke my heart to see the hopefulness and pride on Hazelle's face when she brought out her dress and I can't crush them both. Sighing, "You promise all I have to do is show up? And you won't spend a dime on it?"

Clapping her hands, she gives me a hug and dances over to Gale to do the same. Hazelle is wiping a stray tear from her eyes. Prim leans up to Gale's ear and whispers, "Congratulations," smiling at us both. We've had so little reason to smile lately. I know I'm going to regret giving in, but I don't have enough fight left in me to care right now.

It's decided that we'll go apply for the license in the morning and hold the wedding on Saturday night. It'll give Gale enough time to clean up after his shift and we'll have all day Sunday to set up the house for the three of us. The application should be enough to keep the Peacekeepers off our backs for a few days, and I can also apply to be Prim's legal guardian. Now that I can prove stable income and a functioning home, as well as a guardian over the age of eighteen, it should be a seamless process. Hazelle and Prim talk animatedly about the dress, decorating, and other things I think are too frivolous as I tune them out. Gale watches the two of them intently, pointedly avoiding my eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review if you like... 
> 
> Thanks to Clara Meliza for being a wicked awesome beta. Chapter 4 is done but I'll probably wait to post it until I have a working idea of what will be going on with Chapter 5. I'm trying to avoid the feast/famine situation.


	4. Chapter 4

I try to spend the entire day of the toasting out in the woods hunting. I have every intention of being as productive as possible while everyone else insisted on spending time at the new house. Toasting or not, we still have to eat. Gale is still at work and I am relishing the opportunity to have some time to myself. I appreciate the Hawthorne's generosity and we wouldn't have made it without them, but the constant stream of people was taxing. I am able to do some foraging and find the last of the summer greens still holding on to autumn and check the snare line, but my heaart isn't really into hunting. I spend more time than I'd like to admit running through every possible scenario for this evening. I've almost convinced myself to not return when I realize the sun has moved into late afternoon and Prim will be looking for me.

Before I know it, I am sitting on a stool in front of a mirror in Hazelle's room. I am barely able to contain the subtle bubble of panic rising just below the surface of my seemingly calm demeanor. I can only hope my silence comes off as nervous bride jitters, but I can't be too sure. In just a few minutes, I'll be walking down the street to my new home where I will have my toasting with Gale. I never dreamed of having a wedding or becoming someone's wife. I had spent my mature life, after my father died, convinced that I never wanted to marry. I saw how losing him destroyed my mother and I never wanted to become so vulnerable. Marriage always led to children in the Seam and I never wanted something else for the Capitol to take from me. Yet, here I am getting married to a boy I love, but I don't know if I'm in love with all for the sake of survival.

My hands develop a slight tremor and I can only hope I'll be able to get it under control before I have to face Gale. He's always been able to read me like a book and I don't want him to doubt my commitment to our marriage. I might not want this but I don't want to disappoint him. It might not feel real to me but I don't want anyone else to suspect otherwise. I owe Gale enough to spare him the embarrassment of that. I'm beginning to regret not talking about this arrangement more openly with him. Now it is too late to realize my mistake. I would be less nervous if I had just talked to Gale about it firsthand. Gale will always be my best friend, but after today, he'll be my best friend and my husband. I'm not sure what, if anything, he expects to change between us.

I take in a deep, shaky breath, closing my eyes tightly, and let it out slowly, willing the air to take my nerves with it as it escapes my lungs. I repeat the process a few times to no avail of the butterflies that have taken flight in my stomach. I open my eyes only to meet Hazelle's in the mirror behind me, giving me a slow, knowing smile.

"You know, I was a fool for Gale's father. That man could tie my insides in knots and make me feel like I was soaring with one crooked smile, but I was still nervous on our wedding day," Hazelle says gently, flitting around behind me to smooth the stray hairs that have escaped Prim's braided masterpiece. "My daddy took me for a walk out back around our yard before we walked over for the toasting, trying to calm my nerves." She grins bigger at the memory, laughing slightly at herself.

"He said to me, 'Hazelle, my girl, you're shaking like a leaf on a tree in November. If you wanna run for it, I figure I can give you a ten minute head start.' The thought of running off like that was enough to set me straight. I couldn't imagine my life without marrying him." She walks around and kneels down beside me, taking my face in her hands.

"Katniss, I reckon I can give you a ten minute head start, but I'm fairly sure Gale can outrun you," Hazelle says seriously. I let out a shaky laugh and shake my head slightly, glad for some relief in the pent up tension.

"I also know that my son loves you more than anything. He's wanted nothing but you long before he even understood it himself. Gale's a good man. He'll love you with his whole heart and always take care of you. You've always been family to us, but I have to say, I'm proud that today you'll really become my daughter. You challenge him, make him want to be a better man. I know the two of you will always take care of one another. A mother couldn't ask for anything more for her son," Hazelle says to me softly as a single tear of joy trickles down her face. I can't help but wipe away a stray tear of my own. I hadn't even realized I had started crying. My mother being gone might be why I am sitting here today, but I can't help the fierce pride I feel to be accepted by Hazelle. Hazelle has always been everything a wife and mother should be for her family.

My voice thick with emotion, I take Hazelle's hands in my own, squeezing tightly. "Thank you. I hope we can make you proud."

Hazelle stands and pulls me to my feet. She rubs her hands up and down my arms and smiles brightly. "You already do. Now let's go get you married."

The bottomless pit of nerves I have been feeling all morning abates slightly, but I still have to steel myself. I can do much worse than Gale Hawthorne, my best friend, hunting partner, and only person that I can be myself with, besides Prim. His family loves both my sister and I, and I suspect that this is much more than just an arrangement of convenience to him. That thought is what terrifies me. I give Hazelle the brightest smile I can manage and walk out to the living room.

Prim and Posy are sitting together on the threadbare couch, heads hunched over, together putting the finishing touches on a bouquet of wildflowers. Prim hears the sharp clack of my dress shoes as I move over the wooden floor boards and pulls herself away from the bouquet.

"Oh, Katniss! You look so beautiful!" Prim exclaims, unable to contain the tears of pure joy that overflow from her eyes. "Gale isn't going to know what to do with himself!"

I can't help the blush that creeps over my cheeks with embarrassment. She did my hair earlier, artfully crafting it into intricate looping braids and pinned up, and helped me button up the dress, however, this is the first time she's seen her work all put together. Unable to come up with an appropriate response, I simply open my arms, of which Prim easily launches herself into. Prim is ecstatically happy. This is something I can understand; it's safe and familiar. A small mass collides with our legs as we look down to see Posy has attached herself to the hug as well.

"Katniss, you look really pretty! Did you see the flowers? I helped!" Posy declares, barely taking a breath in explanation.

"They're beautiful. Thank you, Posy," I say as I catch Hazelle's eye, whom hastily tries to brush away her tears before I can notice.

"Come on girls, we should head out. I shutter to think what all your hard work will look like if we leave the boys alone in that house for too long," Hazelle says as she gives Prim a conspiratory wink. I didn't see the need for decorating, but apparently, Hazelle and Prim thought otherwise. Knowing it gave my sister joy to be included, I'll be sure to thank her later. It may be unnecessary but I can't deny Prim anything.

The short walk to the new home I will be sharing with Prim and Gale seems to pass even more quickly. Posy gives my middle section a tight hug before skipping into the house, saying, "I'm glad you're my sister now, Katniss."

Such a simple explanation from the mouth of babes. I can't help but grin at her exuberance. She's still innocent and weddings are a thing of fairytales, maybe if I can remember that I'll be able to pull this off. Hazelle gives me one more quick hug and a bright smile, straightening out the invisible wrinkles in my dress that had been starched into perfection and follows Posy inside.

Prim and I are left standing alone on the porch and in a rare moment of role reversal, Prim takes my hands. "I know you never wanted to get married and I know you're doing this for us, but Katniss, he really loves you. Just keep an open mind, I think you could surprise yourself."

Before I can respond, Prim leans forward to kiss my cheek and heads into the house. When did my baby sister grow up? I take a few more cleansing breaths, knowing it's time to head in myself. This might not be what I planned, but I owe it to Gale to do as Prim said and go in with a clear, open mind.

I immediately can feel the warmth of the hearth and perfectly constructed fire in the small living room. It is sparsely furnished, save for a few borrowed chairs for the Hawthorne's to sit on, but Prim and Posy have managed to cover every available surface in milk bottles filled with baby's breath and tied twine bows around the neck of the bottles. I'm surprised to see Greasy Sae and a few others from the Hob and Gale's mining crew there as well. All eyes are on me as I close the creaking door behind me.

Madge is standing to the side of the hearth, next to a small side table, paper and pen in her hands. She has been working at the Justice Building part-time in preparation for the end of the year when we'll graduate, taking over some of the administrative paperwork to help lighten the load for her father. I feels a surge of gratitude that my only friend besides Gale will get to officiate the wedding. It seems less threatening being officiated by Madge.

Having taken in the room and a deep breath, I finally let my eyes land on Gale. He's standing tall and strong next to the hearth. His hands are clasped behind his back and he simply exudes pride. His dark hair has been combed and tamed. He looks like a man, no longer the boy from the woods, in his starched light blue button up and dark gray pants. The blue makes his gray eyes shine like the glassy surface of the lake. My breath hitches and I can feel my heart skip a beat at the genuine, adoring smile on his face. He gives me a small wink and I find that I can move my feet. Unable to take my eyes off his, my feet thankfully move under their own accord, bringing me closer to him. A thousand emotions flit through those gray eyes that I know so well. He reaches out to take my smaller hand in his. The feel of his strong grip and calloused fingers that are just as familiar as my own anchors me. The strength of his grip is all I need to keep the butterflies contained and me tethered to the earth, feet firmly planted in the present with him. Without my permission, a small smile spreads across my face and I look up at him from under my lashes, blushing slightly.

Prim comes up next to me to take my bouquet and I find both my hands enclosed in Gale's. He pulls me closer so that we are standing toe to toe in front of the hearth. "You look beautiful, Katniss. I always knew you'd be a blushing bride," He says quietly, his eyes glistening with emotion that I can't quite place.

I don't notice anything but the soft gray of his eyes and the feel of his thumbs drawing small circles on the back of my hands. Madge has begun talking but I couldn't be sure of what she was saying. Gale moves to let go of my hands, but I grip tighter, unwilling to let go of his strong presence keeping my legs from turning into jelly. He flashes me a brilliant smile and untangles himself from my clutch. He turns around to get the bread to be toasted and offers me his hand to help me kneel on the floor before the fire. Somehow I missed the entire Capitol mandated remarks before a toasting to make it legal. Good, I think. I don't want anything more from the Capitol than I have to. Kneeling together, we both begin to toast our bread. I notice it isn't our normal dark, Tesserae grain bread but a lighter, nutty loaf with bits of dried fruit. I want to scowl at the wastefulness of Gale spending so much money on a loaf of bread, but I'm reminded of Prim's prodding to keep an open mind. He wanted this to be special. I find that I cannot deny him the pride of providing real baker's bread to be toasted for his bride.

We both move to pull our bread from the fire at the same time and I look at Gale hesitantly. It is tradition that the bride speak first. Capitol weddings are filled with romantic embellishments and exuberant personalizations, but District 12's traditional vows are simple, repeated by each and every couple without alteration. Taking a deep breath and willing my voice to be clear and even, I begin, "Gale, I promise to stand by your side as your dutiful wife, to provide your body with nourishment and give shelter to your heart."

My hand shaking slightly, I offer him a piece of the bread. His eyes are dancing with the firelight and he obediently opens his mouth and takes the offered piece from my hand. He chews softly, his eyes never leaving my face. I can feel the heat creeping up my neck and over my cheeks and I have to look down.

Gale swallows and breaks off a piece from his own slice. "Katniss, I promise to stand by your side as your dutiful husband, to provide your body with nourishment and give shelter to your heart." His own hand is steady and his voice is strong but tender. I open my mouth and accept his offering. His fingers brush my lips as I close my mouth. I chew slowly as he offers me his hand and we stand together.

He guides me gently over to the small table beside Madge where we sign our names to our marriage certificate, making it official. I brave a glance up at the rest of the room as Gale is signing his name in a bold, strong cursive to see Madge quickly wiping away tears and Prim and Hazelle doing the same. Without ceremony or flourish, I sign my name to the document and hand back the pen and paper to Madge. I let out a deep breath, only to discover Gale has taken my face in his hands. He gently tilts my face up towards his. For a heartbeat that feels like eternity, he searches my eyes then lowers his lips to mine. The kiss takes me by surprise but I find myself easily surrendering to his soft lips. This is my first kiss. I'm surprised to feel the undertones of a longing to deepen the kiss begin to rise as he pulls away, smiling broadly. The room erupts into loud cheers and applause and I can't help but flush a deep red. Gale laces his fingers through mine and pulls me to his side, beaming at his family and friends that have surrounded us with pats on the back and words of congratulations.

I find myself pulled into a hug by Greasy Sae. "I knew you'd smarten up eventually, Katniss. That's a good man you've got there." I feel Gale squeeze my hand in reassurance and I'm glad he knows better than to let go of me. I'm unsure how to answer her but the knowing glint in her eyes tells me that I don't have to.

Still gripping my hand, Gale is hugging his mother. A small lump forms in the back of my throat when I realize she is the only parent we have left. The look of pride is unmistakeable on her face. I'm greeted with awkward hugs from Rory and Vick. My stomach does a weird flip-flop at realizing I started out this morning with only Prim and my family just expanded to include two brothers and another sister.

Madge appears suddenly at my side, wide smile, clasping my elbow. Fingers still laced firmly through Gale's, I turn to her. "Katniss, I know you would have said no if I had asked, so I didn't, but I wanted to do something special," she says tentatively.

Before I can protest, she's gently leading me over to my new to me, modest kitchen, Gale trailing easily behind me. On the small, worn table is easily the prettiest cake I've ever seen. It's fairly small as far as wedding cakes go, but it is undoubtedly the fanciest thing anyone in this room has ever had. It stands two tiers tall in butter cream frosting. In a masterpiece of sugar and food coloring, the baker has managed to capture perfectly the meadow in full bloom of spring. Each delicate flower is hand painted with such care and detail that I can hardly believe they aren't real.

Gale's brow furrows slightly at the cake, no doubt thinking the extravagance is unnecessary, just as I am, but quickly smoothes his features into a look of pleasant surprise when he catches me staring. Posy skips up next to us, eyes alight in wonder at the frosted creation, "Can I have a piece?"

I turn to Gale in mock seriousness, "What do you think, should we share our cake or just eat it all ourselves?"

His eyes twinkle with mischief. "I don't know, Catnip, maybe we should just eat it. I bet no one else even likes cake."

Crying out her protest, Posy is positively indignant at the thought of not getting any, her lip falling into a full-on pout and her arms crossed over her chest. It would be heartbreaking if I hadn't already moved to the cabinet to set out a stack of mismatched plates and a knife to cut into the cake. Madge follows my lead and begins rummaging around to find enough forks and spoons for all our guests. My hand hovers over the bottom tier and I'm almost filled with a sense of loss at cutting into it. It's almost too pretty to eat but I know this is something we could never afford ourselves. I'm embarrassed by Madge's generosity that I'll never be able to repay.

"Need some help?" Gale asks, seeing my internal struggle. He stands behind me and places his hand over mine, guiding it to the perfect cut. The warmth of his hand on mine and the closeness of his body makes me hyper-aware and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I'm vaguely aware of how intimate this must look to everyone else. How well we are playing our part as bride and groom. He swipes his finger into the frosting and dabs a bit on my nose before sticking the rest in his mouth and flashing me a teasing grin. I scowl and move aside to wipe the frosting off my nose, letting Madge take over making precise cuts and handing them out to our guests.

I'm unable to stay annoyed at him for long when I see him scoop up Posy and plop her down on his lap, holding her plate of slightly larger portion of cake steady as she enjoys it happily. I'm grateful that everyone's attention seems to be focused on their rare treat and it allows me to melt into the background as best I can. The room is filled with the sounds of our friends and family conversing, carelessly laughing, and forks scraping plates clean. Although Gale is talking with Thom, who is a fellow miner and was in his year at school, his eyes frequently find mine, giving me a small smile. I've only ever seen Gale so carefree in the woods and I can't help but feel guilty at the circumstance surrounding our toasting. He looks just as in his element surrounded by his friends and family as he does in the woods. I cringe inwardly, knowing he deserves this moment with someone that he truly loves and who loves him back with her whole heart. I've taken that option away from him.

Our guests don't stay too much longer and we accept final congratulations and wishes on the porch steps as we see them out. I move to say something as Prim begins carrying an overtired Posy in the direction of the Hawthorne house. Hazelle pulls me into a hug. "I thought Prim could have a sleep over with Posy and I tonight. I'll send her back over with her things around noon tomorrow. I'm sure the two of you will have plenty to organize in the house."

I stiffen at her implication. Having your younger sister sleeping in the next room isn't ideal for newlyweds, but it isn't like that between Gale and I. She clearly expects a physical relationship between the two of us and I begin to panic at not knowing what Gale will expect.

"Thanks Ma, you know, for everything," Gale says, pulling her into a hug and giving her a reassuring smile. It does nothing to settle the butterflies in my stomach. We stand on the porch side by side as she rounds up her brood and heads towards their house, leaving us alone as the sun begins setting. I'm terrified to find out what happens next, so I make my escape as quickly as possible, ducking into the kitchen with the pretense of washing up the dishes.

I fill up the sink and begin collecting the plates and silverware from their precarious perches all over the window ledges and chairs of the kitchen and living room. I'm focused so intently on stacking them up next to the sink that I don't realize Gale has come up next to me with his silent tread, rolling up his sleeves and picking up a towel to help me dry the dishes. "You know, you could have just left all of this mess until tomorrow or at least asked for some help. You don't have to do everything yourself, Catnip."

I can hear the double meaning to his words. He wants me to let him in, let him take care of me. I refuse to become anymore dependent on him than I already am. Isn't it enough that he's saved my sister and I from the Community Home? "I'm not much of a homemaker, but I can wash a few dozen dishes, Gale."

Ignoring my scowl, his features soften tentatively. "I know you can, Katniss."

We work side-by-side in a heavy silence. We both know that we need to talk about how this is all going to work, but neither of us has been very comfortable talking about our feelings. I hear him take a deep breath a few times, as if preparing to say something, but stops himself. I know he's just as scared of saying the wrong thing as I am. I let the water out of the sink, dry my hands, and move away to return the chairs to their proper place from where they'd been set up for the ceremony. I can feel his eyes burning into my back from across the room, but I'm not ready to acknowledge it yet.

He disappears into our room and reappears a few minutes later, dressed in low slung flannel pants and a faded, fitted black t-shirt riddled with holes around the collar. He must be able to sense the panic that rises in me at the sight of him walking across our living room in his pajamas. I clearly hadn't given enough thought to how this arrangement would work. We'll be expected to share a room and sleep next to each other in the same bed. His long stride closes the gap between us and he takes my hands in his. "Katniss, I realize it's not like that between us and I'm not expecting anything. I can sleep in Prim's room tonight, but we've got to figure this out, she'll be back here tomorrow."

I nod my head and attempt to make sense of the whirlwind of thoughts going through my head. His gray eyes search mine, reading far more than I'm probably ready to say to him. He clenches jaw and drops my hands, having come to a conclusion that I haven't decided for myself. "It's okay. We can talk about it later," he says, moving towards the small bedroom next to ours.

I'm flooded with shame at the thought I've driven him from his own bed. I don't know what's more embarrassing, sharing a bed with my best friend or the surfacing memory of how his lips felt on mine when he kissed me this afternoon. On impulse, I grab his hand and barely murmur, "Please stay."

He turns back around and searches my face to confirm that I do, in fact, want his presence. Before I can change my mind, I lead us back to our room. Instantly, I wish I would have thought this through better. He's already in his pajamas but I am still wearing my dress. Realizing my discomfort, he turns his back, giving me a sense of privacy. I easily remove my shoes but struggle a bit with the row of tiny buttons on the back of the dress. Prim had painstakingly buttoned them for me this morning and I didn't give any thought to how I would undo them later. Gritting my teeth, I call out to him, "Gale, do you think you can help me with the buttons on the back? Prim had to do them up earlier and I don't think I can reach them all."

A look I can't decipher flashes across his face. "Of course. Turn around, Catnip," he says, his voice thicker than usual.

I can feel his breath on the back of my neck as his deft fingers slowly begin undoing the row of tiny buttons. I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment as he reveals the black lace of my bra and I can hear the hitch in his breath. Each undone button reveals a sliver of skin and I can't help but think he's moving at a snail's pace. Gale's fingers brush the newly exposed flesh, leaving a wake of goosebumps in their path. The tension between us is palpable and I can feel his eyes drinking me in. Before I can make my mind up about how I feel about this, he's taken a step back towards the bed. Quietly he says, "All done, Katniss."

I can hear the bed creak as it gives way to to his weight. Clutching the neck of the dress tightly, I scramble to find my longest nightgown to don. I make a split second decision to remove my bra, I never wear one to bed and I'm not about to start now. My underwear, however, remains firmly in place. Dressed in the most modest nightclothes I own, I turn around to see Gale sitting on the edge of the bed, looking pointedly at his bare feet. He looks up and we simply stare at each other across the moonlight-filled room.

Gale and I have always had an understanding. We move seamlessly through the woods, true partners. Words are never necessary but I find that I can't place the emotions flickering across his face like the turning pages of a book. He gives me a bashful smile, "I wasn't sure what side of the bed you wanted to sleep on."

He meant it to be funny but neither of us miss the flash of panic that strikes me at his attempt. "Come here, Katniss," he says softly, holding out a hand.

Thankful for him taking control of the situation, I don't hesitate to take his hand and sit next to him on the bed. His thumb draws soft circles on the back of my hand and I allow my head to fall to his shoulder. The mix of his pine scent and masculinity is a familiar comfort. I hadn't had the chance to realize before now how emotionally exhausting the entire day had been. I didn't even realize tears had begun to trickle down my face until they collect damply on my thighs, soaking my nightgown. Gale brushes them from my lashes and pulls me in closer to his side. "Katniss, I know this wasn't what you expected and I'm really sorry..."

"I miss my dad, you know?" I cut him off abruptly. I hadn't even made the connection until the words came flying out my mouth. Taking a shaky breath, I continue, "Hazelle told me about the day she married your dad this morning. She said she spent those last few single moments talking with her dad. I didn't think I'd miss him as much as I do. Not today."

Soft understanding spreads across his face and I instantly feel guilty. Here he thought I was crying because I married him. I truly do ruin everything I touch. I'm not suitable to be anyone's wife. He leans forward and kisses my forehead, gently guiding me to lay back on the bed. I'm too exhausted to protest and it feels too good to let someone else make the decisions for a while.

The nights have gotten much colder and in our back bedroom we can hardly feel the warming effects of the hearth. We climb up to the top and huddle under the blankets. Lying nose to nose, Gale begins to stroke my hair. I close my eyes and let the repetitive motion sooth me.

"I missed my dad today, too," he says quietly. "I know you didn't dream of getting married and having a family, but I did. I always thought I'd spend the morning of my toasting hunting with my dad and he'd have some kind of fatherly advice for me. Rory sort of tried," he laughed. "He told me, 'I think Katniss is going to be a lot like hunting, just have patience with her.' It was pretty good advice for a thirteen-year-old. I promise to be your best friend and have patience, Catnip."

I don't deserve him. Never in a million years will I be able to deserve the boy with the snares. I know he doesn't expect me to say anything back so I concentrate on keeping my breathing steady and drifting off to sleep. The rhythmic motion of him smoothing my hair is more comforting and oddly intimate than anything else we've ever shared together.

I am almost asleep when I hear him so softly whisper, "Good night, Mrs. Hawthorne," before kissing my forehead tenderly and laying back down himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review if you like... 
> 
> Thanks again to Clara Meliza, she's awesome, seriously. I was going to wait on posting this until I had some of Chapter 5 done but I couldn't wait. Next update might take a bit longer. The Katniss/Hazelle conversation is pretty close to the same one my dad and I had five minutes before my wedding standing outside the church where I kept threatening to throw up in the bushes. Keeping it classy as always. JOP is the way to go for weddings.


	5. Chapter 5

It was easy to feel close and open with Gale in the dark but the first rays of morning light creeping through our bedroom window brings back all of my previous terror and uncertainty. Gale is still passed out, dead to the world. The miners met their quota early in the week, giving him a disproportionate amount of time off. There’s rarely any rhyme or reason that we’ve been able to figure out for the coal demands. Gale swears it’s just another way to keep us under close Capitol control. It’s impossible to budget your money appropriately when you can’t be sure from one week to the next how many hours you’ll be required to work. Typically it’s enough to scrape by but never quite enough to get ahead; then there are those weeks that they’re lucky to scrape together ten hours and everyone is hungry. 

I grab a change of clothes and head to the bathroom to throw on my well worn leggings and a long button up shirt. I spent the entire day leading up to the toasting hunting yesterday so it isn’t necessary today. I’m anxious to make some sort of semblance of order out of this house. I am busying myself with rummaging around the trunk that holds all of my earthly possessions for a tea kettle when Gale emerges from our room, thankfully dressed with a small smile for me. 

“Good morning Catnip.” 

“Morning. Want tea?” I ask already moving to the hand pump over the sink to fill the kettle for tea without waiting for an answer. 

“So we hunting today?” He asks taking a seat at our well worn table and cutting up some bread from the toasting for both of us. I try to ignore the strange flip flop my stomach does at seeing the bread in his hands again. 

“I hunted yesterday, we have plenty of game.” My eyes not leaving my task. 

“Perfect, the baker requested some Elderberry for a tart or muffin or something rather, we’ll have plenty of time to get it.” He says around a mouthful of bread. 

The one thing I don’t want is the time I spend with Gale in the woods to be different. I can’t avoid him, nor do I want to, but just maybe things don’t have to change between us. Before long, we’re ducking under the fence and slipping into our woods. I resolve to treat him like every other day. 

We spend an hour in companionable silence focusing on our gathering task. The flowers, roots, leaves, and stem of elderberry can be toxic so it’s never been my preferred plant to gather. The work is tedious and it takes forever to get a respectable amount of usable raw product. My patience are better suited for shooting game. 

“Catnip?” Gale breaks the silence. I left my eyes to him in response. “We need to talk about this.” 

He knows I’ve been dreading this conversation, having successfully avoided it for days now, but I knew that was short lived. I give him no indication that I intend to open up and speak first. He decides to take the lead knowing I won’t. 

“Things don’t have to be weird between us. I’m still the same Gale and you’re still the same Katniss.” 

“I know that.” 

“You don’t have to walk around like it’s a death sentence or I’m going to jump you at any minute.” He says shaking his head slowly. 

“I don’t think that at all and I haven’t said that. Why would you say that?” I immediately get defensive and try to keep my voice even. 

“You didn’t have to say anything. Look, I know this isn’t ideal but it doesn’t have to be bad. We’re best friends, we can make this work. Let’s just try, can you do that?” 

“Yeah, ok.” I say and he flashes me a brilliant smile, one that he only reserves for the woods. But that’s not true either. He smiled like that at me yesterday. The realization makes my stomach lurch. 

We take a break and sit down with our backs up against a near by log and I silently hand him my canteen of water. He takes a long drink and I lean my head back, close my eyes, and listen to the birds. It’s moments like these I think we can make this work. If every day is like this, I can live with it. We’ve collected more than enough berries to trade and it’s not yet midday. We have enough time to check the closer of the snare lines before heading to town to the bakery and possibly the Hob. 

I’m leading us carefully around a trail and back out to the fence when my boot catches a root. I am launched forward only to be caught at the last second by Gale’s strong arms. 

“Easy there Catnip.” He says laughing at me. 

It’s been ages since I’ve tripped in the woods. I’m so accustom to my silent tread and carefully contemplated steps it shocks me more than anything. He holds my arm steady while I right myself. More annoyed with myself than hurt, other than my pride, I pull to walk away when he casually slides his hand down and finds mine. As a general rule, Gale and I don’t touch each other intentionally. Sure, we’ve sat in close proximity waiting for game or on our rock at our meeting spot but intentional hand holding has never been part of the equation. He pretends not to notice when I very pointedly untangle my hand from his and walk ahead of him ducking under the fence and back towards town. 

I let Gale take the lead for trading at the bakery. Mr. Mellark has always been very fair and kind to me, but Gale has always undoubtedly been the harder of the two of us to bargain with. I hang back a little ways from the back door thinking about what we need from the Hob. Each house issued by the Capitol comes with a few basic household items but it’s never standard. We lucked out getting two beds, an intact dining room table, a few chairs, and some mismatched dishes and utensils, it’s always hit or miss and they keep careful tally of what stays with each house. I’m sure at one point they each included just about everything but things have been smuggled out or broken over the years and never replaced. Prim would probably be better and figuring out what we need for the house but I have a better chance of only coming away with the essentials without her. Besides, her negotiating poker face could use some work before I allow her in the Hob. 

“Congratulations Katniss. Gale says they actually got you in a dress yesterday. I don’t believe it. I don’t think I’ve seen you out of hunting clothes since you first started school and wore that red plaid dress.” My attention snaps back to the baker that is giving me a kind smile. 

“Uh, thanks. Yeah, Prim insisted. It was green. Madge brought over the cake. You did a really good job on it.” I hardly remember what I wore the first day of school, there’s no reason he should. He looks as if he’s going to say more but thanks us instead and turns to close the door as I just catch the blond hair and blue eyes of the baker’s youngest son hovering close by. 

I can hear the coins jingling in Gale’s pocket as we walk towards the Hob. He opens the decrepit door to the black market, holding it open for me in a gentleman like fashion that is so unlike Gale. I thought we were going to try at making things normal and he seems to be taking every opportunity to do the opposite. He catches up behind me and takes my hand once more. We’re in the middle of a crowded room, I can’t hardly drop his hand now without making a scene. 

“What was that Gale?” I whisper harshly.

“Katniss, we haven’t even been married a day, people are going to expect us to hold hands.” He informs me as if he’s speaking to a child. 

I want to continue this conversation but now isn’t the place to do it. We head over to Greasy Sae’s and I let Gale take the lead on trading for some kitchen essentials. Number one on my list is a large pot, I might not be a noteworthy cook but having something other than a tea kettle to cook in will surely make a difference. If I can keep my mind focused on trading, maybe I can keep myself from being too annoyed at Gale’s bizarrely, overly affectionate attitude. 

We return home to find Prim has returned from her stay overnight with the Hawthorne’s. Thankfully there’s enough work to be done around the house and general cleaning to make it fit for habitation that Gale and I aren’t forced to spend the entire afternoon with each other. He heads out back while Prim and I take hot soapy water to every last dusty nook and cranny of the small house. I can hear the sound of a hammer rhythmically hitting a nail every now and then but I can’t muster up the nerve to go investigate. 

Sometime later, I send Prim out to let Gale know dinner is ready only to hear her high pitched squeal of delight. 

“Oh Gale it’s just perfect! Lady will love it!” Prim exclaims just as I step out the back porch to see her throw her arms around his middle. He flushes a slight shade of pink that I haven’t seen before but looks pleased. 

Gale has spent the afternoon creating a modestly built but sturdy pen in the backyard for Prim’s goat. A post in the ground and long chain would have sufficed as far as I’m concerned for now but Prim is obviously pleased. I can’t help eyeing sagging railing on the porch thinking it an unnecessary extravagance. Prim’s pets fall significantly lower in level of importance than sound infrastructure in my book. Gale seems to read my mind. 

“I know there’s a lot that needs fixing around here.” He says rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “I figured I’d chip away at fixing the roof next weekend.”

My sister’s words of encouragement right before the wedding flash through my mind, “It looks great Gale. I’m sure Lady will love it.” 

As if to rub salt in an open wound Prim’s mangy cat, Buttercup, makes his smug presence known by rubbing himself on my ankles. I place a well aimed kick his way and he stalks off to be consoled by my sister. 

“Well dinner’s ready.” I say and turn back into the house knowing the two of them will follow me in. 

I was stupid to think that school would be exactly the same. Not only have I lost my mother, making me an orphan that hasn’t ended up in the Community Home, a rare feat in and of itself, but I’m also the only married girl in school. I’ve never paid much attention to gossip, I have no use for it. However, it’s impossible to ignore how often my name seems to be falling from the lips of everyone else. I hardly make it half way down the hall to my homeroom class when Delly Carwright all but throws herself at me in the hallway. 

“Katniss, congratulations! It must be so wonderful to be married to Gale, you’ve been so close for ages! We all just knew you’d end up together! Tell me all about your toasting. I can’t believe you didn’t invite everyone.” She says not missing a beat and strangling me with her tight hug that has pinned my arms to my side. 

I know she means well, Delly hasn’t been mean to anyone a day in her life but I’m acutely aware that the usual dull roar of the hallway has become eerily quiet and all eyes are on me. My face flushes without my permission and I desperately wish she didn’t have me pinned between her and the wall. 

“I... uh...” She continues to look at me expectantly. “It was small, there’s not much to tell.” 

“Katniss looked beautiful in her green dress. Her sister had bouquets of flowers all over the house and Peeta made a wonderful cake, it looked just like the meadow in springtime.” Madge deftly jumps into the conversation to save me. 

She’s normally just as reserved as I am at school but has the social graces to know when it’s best to speak up and when to keep quiet. I’ll have to add this to the ever growing list of things I owe Madge Undersee. I scan the crowd quickly, looking for an exit. For a brief moment, my eyes lock with Peeta Mellark’s who has turned a slight shade of red having been caught listening in on the conversation. I knew the cake came from the Mellark’s Bakery, there’s only one in the district after all, but I wouldn’t have expected Peeta’s large hands, which are better suited for tossing bags of flour, to have the delicate touch necessary to create such beautiful details on the cake. I’m too concerned with making an escape to ponder this development any further. 

The bell rings the minute warning for first period and the crowd disperses. I have the distinct feeling this will not be the last I hear murmurings of my weekend. I quickly find my seat in the back of History of District Twelve, pull out my well worn book, and do my best to keep my head down and not draw attention to myself. As usual, I spend my time looking out the dingy, soot stained windows and wish I were anywhere but class. The woods are too far away to see properly but in my mind’s eye, I can see perfectly the last few red leaves still clinging to the maple tree in the grove where I would meet Gale. Despite the proximity to the mines, the air always feels just a bit cleaner, like freedom. I’m cataloging which snare lines will need to be checked this afternoon when a sharp snap of a ruler on the edge of the desk pulls me out of my daydream. 

“Mrs. Hawthorne, if you please, page 158, paragraph two.” 

I can immediately feel the blood rushing to my cheeks and my mouth go dry. Every pair of eyes in the room are looking at me. For half a second I want to turn around and look at the unsuspecting victim behind me that our teacher must clearly be calling on because I’m Katniss Everdeen. Too late, I realize no, I am Katniss Hawthorne and if there was any doubt in anyone’s mind, there certainly isn’t now. I quickly flip open to the page and begin reading in the softest voice I can manage without drawing more criticism from my teacher. Much too slowly, I can feel the eyes of my classmates returning back to their own books. I’ve shown up to school starving, too skinny to fit into my mother’s hand-me-downs in a much less kept state and never felt the humiliation that I just did now. For the first time, I can feel tears welling up in my eyes and by sheer determination I keep them from falling down my face. The most unsettling part is I’m not entirely sure what exactly has upset me. 

Our school is small enough that we spend half the day in one classroom and half the day in another. With only two teachers per grade level and a limited number of shabby classrooms, there is thankfully very little opportunity for much socialization throughout the day. I take advantage of the break in between classroom changes to escape to the bathroom. I duck into a stall before anyone else can see me but it’s not long before I hear the door open and the dull roar of passing period in the hallway. I’d rather be late than have a repeat performance of being cornered in the hallway again by Delly pumping me for more details so I stay hidden. 

“Can you believe it? She actually married him!” The first voice says indignantly. 

“Well they’ve spent all of that time alone in the woods. He had to figure out how to do that with his tongue somewhere. Besides, he probably knocked her up and his mother forced him. It’s not like her mother is around to care.” Replies the haughty voice of the second. 

“It’s a shame that’ll be the last trip to the slag heap you’ll ever have with Gale Hawthorne.” 

“We’ll see about that.” I don’t need to open the door to know they’ve been fluffing their blonde hair and applying lip gloss that I’ll never be able to afford. The minute warning bell rings and I barely slip into my seat. 

I try my best to pay attention fully to the lesson, the last thing I want is to be embarrassingly caught off guard again. As hard as I try, I can’t get the conversation I overheard in the bathroom out of my head. I don’t even want to speculate what act and supposed talent they were talking about. It does bother me that everyone assumes Gale and I have been intimate for years in the woods. I should have seen the pregnancy rumors coming. There’s only one reason to get married at my age and that’s to avoid the shame of having an illegitimate child. These kinds of things are common place in the Capitol but for the Districts to behave in such a fashion is shameful. 

The final bell rings to signal the end of the day and I scoop up my belongings with inhuman speed. If I’m lucky, I can avoid the rush in the hallway and slip out without further incident. 

“Congratulations Katniss.” I turn around to none other than Peeta Mellark. He has his hands in his pockets and his bag slung over his shoulder. I was quick but evidently not quick enough. 

I don’t even try to hide the scowl on my face. “Thanks.” I say but I don’t really mean it. I’ve heard enough of ‘congratulations’ from people today, their thinly veiled snide remarks and judgement. I turn around without a glance back and stalk off to find Prim and the Hawthorne kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the update delay. I have a million reasons why it took me so long but regardless, I'm sorry. This is unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own. Hopefully I can get back on track.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Normally I escape to the woods as soon as school is over. There is limited time before the sun slipped too far below the tree covered mountains that surrounds our district to be able to hunt safely in the evenings. Despite my lingering anger from school, I can tell that Prim's need was greater than my own. She isn't her usual chatty, sunny self after school. She holds Posy's hand the whole way back, but I can tell her heart isn't in to listening to the younger girl's stories.

"Hey, want some tea?" I ask as I hold open the front door and wave goodbye to the Hawthorne kids. She gives me a small nod and goes to set her bag in her room.

I move mechanically through the kitchen, trying to swallow my annoyance from earlier and gear myself up to give Prim the comfort she so obviously needed.

"Katniss," Prim says slowly, fidgeting with the cup of tea in her hands, "I'm so mad at Momma. Mad and hurt and sad and I miss her all rolled into one. Do you know what I mean?"

I've been trying to not think about our mother. On some level, I feel like I had mourned her back when we lost my father. She had ceased to be a sense of comfort and a strong fixture in my life at that point. I had never really worked through being able to trust her and depend on her again. I took for granted that she would be there and never repaired that relationship. The guilt and anger at the missed opportunity hangs heavy on my heart.

"Yeah, Prim, I do know," I say, reaching my hand out to capture one of hers. "She loved us though. No matter what, she did love us."

Silent tears begin to fall down my sister's face. I feel my breath catch uncomfortably in my throat.

"I just," Prim hiccups through her steady tears, "I just don't understand why she didn't say anything. Was it on purpose? Could she really not stand it here anymore? Weren't we enough for her?"

"Oh, Prim," my voice cracking as I move to kneel down and hold her. "You can't think like that. You didn't do anything wrong. You did everything you could for her. It isn't your fault. It isn't anyone's fault."

I can scarcely believe the words tumbling out of my mouth. I had struggled for a long time with the idea that my sister and I weren't enough for our mother. That whatever bond we had wasn't as strong as the ties to my father. When he was lost, we had lost the ability to tie our mother to us.

Prim continues to sniffle in my arms, and I turn her face up to mine. "You have to find a way to forgive her, Prim."

After a pause, Prim looks at me with solemn eyes. "So do you, Katniss."

A dam bursts within me and all the years of resentment, anger, loneliness, and feelings of neglect come flooding forth at an alarming rate. I clutch my sister to me closer and don't even attempt to stop the cleansing flow of my tears. Holding my sister, the only other person that can truly understand my pain, I just simply let go. I don't have to be brave, I just simply have to be.

We sit there sharing our tears until all of our mutual pain and anger has reverberated between the two of us and flickered out. The act of drawing it out like a poison and releasing it together is more comforting than any words either of us can come up with. It is simply enough to share the burden of grief and loss with someone else that understands. We both take solace in being strong for each other until we simply can't anymore, and then letting it all go. Each time of surrender, the pain is a little less consuming, a little less overwhelming, and being strong becomes a little bit easier.

"I think we need to visit her, tell her we forgive her," Prim says, the unasked question of when hanging in the air.

"Soon. We'll go soon," I say with certainty. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Neither of us say that, in a life full of so much uncertainty as District 12, that my promise can be broken in an instant. We both need the sense of permanency that holding on to one another gives. When all else fails, we'd have each other.

"I'm not going anywhere either," Prim says with a small smile. We are both able to find the strength to pull ourselves together and move forth with a renewed purpose. We might not have worked through all of our issues towards our mother, but knowing we'll both struggle through the emotions together is enough.

My stomach gives a funny jolt seeing Gale walk in the front door after work. He is covered head-to-toe in black soot. His olive skin is blackened with dust, the creases in his clothes are a river of black lines, and he's clutching his hard hat and tin lunch pail. I briefly wonder how in the world Hazelle ever got his clothes clean. Logically, I know he works in the dark, dirty caverns of the mines day in and day out, but actually seeing him come home from a shift makes it so much more real. Everything about him is traces of a job that will eventually kill him for the sake of Prim and I. How many times had my father came home looking just like Gale? I don't miss the way his face lights up with a smile as a greeting, seeing Prim and I in the kitchen. He disappears into the back room to clean up.

Dinner is an odd sense of blending old memories with new realities. I can't help but notice how easily Gale falls into conversation with Prim, reminding me so much of my father. Even as a small girl, Prim commanded attention at the table, and my father loved to hear her stories. My grip on the present is slipping. I can see my father's dark head bent over my sister's golden locks with my mother smiling at him from across the table, so happy and full of love. I can smell the herbs my father would have brought home to my mother drying in the kitchen. The house feels warm and safe and completely not my own. At any minute, I expect to hear the emergency alarm go off at the entrance to the mine and have everything before me, past and present, blown apart. Reality is the terrifying probability that no matter what I do, both the past and present only ends in destruction. I'm barely able to gasp down my sense of panic when the sound of a chair scraping along the wood floor snaps me out of my terrifying reverie.

Prim makes an excuse to retreat to her bedroom, claiming she has homework to finish up. Gale gestures to the front porch with a small smile, and I follow him out the door. The nights have been cool, but I couldn't deny him an opportunity for clean air.

"What's up, Catnip? You've been acting weird all night." Gale lounges back on his elbows, sprawled down the porch steps with his legs crossed at the ankles, feet resting on the very bottom.

"Nothing. And I have not," I say, staring straight ahead, my brows furrowing. I take a seat on the top step a comfortable distance from Gale.

"Yes, you have. You'll barely even look at me. What, can't handle a little teasing from the Hob?" His tone is playful, but the concern is genuine.

Damn him. Straight for the jugular, every time. The last thing I wanted to do was come home and have a conversation with Gale about my day. I'd have to admit that being called Mrs. Hawthorne in class bothered me, that everyone staring at me all day bothered me, that being cornered by Delly in the hallway bothered me. What I'm most afraid of is admitting the conversation I overheard in the bathroom. Not only have I not figured out why it all bothered me, but admitting to Gale that it has will likely only hurt his feelings. He's seen enough of my weakness lately.

"Well, it's pretty standard. When Quinn married his new wife, he heard it for a week straight. I wouldn't have expected anything less. Don't tell me it bothered you, Catnip."

Quinn is the middle aged man that we occasionally buy snare wire from at the Hob. His first wife had died in childbirth, very common in the Seam, and he married a girl from Gale's grade. It is also not uncommon for a younger woman to marry someone older, especially if he has semi-steady income. Childbirth kills Seam women just as easily as the mines kills our men. With my mother gone, the only competent midwife in the district, it has become that much more dangerous.

"Of course not. Besides, I stayed back home with Prim tonight," I say automatically, my face turning a slight shade of scarlet and betraying me. I remember the teasing Quinn put up with vividly. Most of the innuendos have largely gone over my head, but the implications are undeniably of a more private nature.

I can feel Gale staring at me. I know he saw me blush and is beginning to suspect that my day consisted of far more than just teasing from Darius and Ripper at the Hob.

"What happened at school, Katniss?" Gale asks, gently, but firm.

I've always counted on his ability to read me in the woods. What makes us such great hunting partners is our ability to silently communicate and anticipate each other's movement. Hunting, Gale knows what I am thinking moments after I think it. We truly are an extension of each other. I haven't counted on how that unspoken communication would follow me home every night, that I won't ever be able to hide anything from him.

"It was nothing. People are just stupid. It's a small district and people talk. I just don't want Prim or your siblings to hear it." There is plenty about what was said that bothers me, but protecting family is something both Gale and I understand on the same level.

Gale sits up and pulls his legs up so he can rest his elbows on them. He turns to study my face. As I watch him studying me, I feel that last hidden fortress within myself, that secret part I keep just for myself, being breached without my permission. Gale typically knows when to prod and when to let me be. This new Gale, husband Gale, acts as if he has a right to know everything.

He lets out a long breath. "Well, give them a few months, and when they realize you're skinny as ever, they'll stop saying I knocked you up."

"Gale!"

"Come on, Katniss, it wouldn't be the first time. They'll get over it. And don't worry about the boys and Prim. They're old enough to know better."

"What about Posy?"

"My mom will handle it. We can't protect them from everything. Sooner or later, they're all going to grow up."

I understand why Gale would want to sit out on the porch at night. Spending hours down in the mine with no fresh air or natural light is more than I can imagine. However, he seems much more impervious to the crisp night air. I wrap my arms around myself and huddle my knees to my chest. Seamlessly, Gale pulls me into his side.

"Katniss, I owe you an apology," Gale says quietly. I knit my eyebrows in confusion. "I knew you were going to have the harder end of this deal. I should have said something. I sent you to the wolves without any warning. I just... didn't want to give you anything else to worry about. You've had enough to deal with lately."

A brief annoyance flares up at his words. He knew school was going to be more of a nightmare than usual and didn't say anything. However, I can't blame him for not saying anything. I've been anything but easy to put up with.

"Yeah, I was afraid I'd have a hell of a time convincing you if I would have told you what it was going to be like beforehand," he said, reading my mind. "They'll get over it, Katniss. They've got the attention span of a hummingbird. It'll be something else before you know it."

"You can't keep doing this, Gale." He looks at me in confusion. "Protecting me. I know you mean well, but you can't keep sending me into things blind. I can handle it a lot better if I know it's coming."

"I always thought you did your best when you're caught off guard," he says, giving me a smirk. "You're right. No more secrets."

For the sake of transparency and our no secrets policy, I figure I owe him the real story. "It was pretty awful. Delly cornered me in the hallway wanting wedding details. Literally everyone heard." Gale's face broke out into a grin, as he can easily picture the scene. Delly's enthusiasm precedes her. "Then I got called on to read in class, except she called me Mrs. Hawthorne,"—I try not to stumble on the name—"and by the time I realized it was me she called on, everyone was turning around to look at me. And the girls in the bathroom were talking about you and the Slag Heap and how Hazelle forced you to marry me because I'm knocked up and it's not like my mother would care."

By the time I have finished explaining it all in a rush, angry tears are falling onto my thighs and Gale's smile has disappeared.

"What did they say?" Gale asks, sitting very still.

"I just told you."

"No, Katniss, those girls."

"It doesn't matter," I say suddenly, standing up and moving to go inside. Gale catches my hand just quick enough to stop my escape.

"It matters to me, Katniss. What did they say?"

"I... well, it was something about... It doesn't matter and doesn't need repeating," I stammer.

Gale swore under his breath. "That bad, huh?" he says, shaking his head slowly. "Look, Katniss, I'm sorry. That's over, in the past. It won't happen again. You have to know that."

"You've been with girls. That's not news to me, Gale. Besides, it's not like that between us."

Gale lets go of my wrist and hangs his head. I take the opportunity to escape into the house and get ready for bed. With luck, I'll be asleep before he joins me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Clara Meliza for beta'ing this for me, she's awesome and has a hell of a job keeping me in the same tense. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for the comments and kudos. You guys are awesome for sticking with me through my sporadic updates. Find me on tumblr loreleieve.tumblr.com I'll be posting sneak peaks of upcoming chapters.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Catnip. Kat. Katniss," Gale says, shaking my shoulder gently. I try to catch my breath and my bearings while he deftly untangles me from my entrapment of blankets. My eyes adjust to the darkness, and I realize I've been calling out in my sleep again. "Shhh, it's okay, it was just a dream."

Each time is a different variant of the same dream. Sometimes it starts out with me hunting in the woods alone. Others I'm standing at the sink in the kitchen preparing dinner. And then it happens. I don't even try to convince myself it is anything but the horrifying sound of the warning sirens going off at the entrance to the mines. It's the one sound that will strike terror into every heart in the Seam. It means there's been a disaster. It means someone's husband, father, son, brother, isn't coming home.

I use to have these dreams frequently after my father died. They went away for a while and were replaced by my name being called at the Reaping, which is still a valid concern.

It takes a moment, but I recognize that I'm sitting up in bed. There are no sirens. Gale is softly stroking my back, whispering to me much like he would a wounded animal. I guess when I wake up in a panicked terror like that I am behaving like a wounded animal. My breath evens out and my eyes adjust to the dim moonlit room.

"You okay?" Gale asks cautiously.

"Yeah," I assure him. "It was just a dream."

Gale nods, but the look of concern doesn't leave his face. "Kat, that's the third time this week."

I feel my face flush and avert my eyes from his. "I know, I'm sorry. I know you need to sleep and this isn't helping."

"Why don't you lay back down?" he says, still gently stroking my back.

I do, feeling every bit foolish and weak for crying out in my sleep yet again.

"You know, you can talk to me about them. Your dreams. It might help."

I shake my head. I haven't figured out why I keep remembering the awful sirens that told me I had lost my father. I don't need to burden Gale with reminding him of the same thing.

"Catnip, you can tell me anything." He looks so sincere in that moment that I believe him. If anyone would understand how terrifying that moment is, the uncertainty, the dread, the hopelessness, it would be Gale.

I take a deep breath. "It starts out different, but it always ends up the same. I'm doing something, just an every day thing, and then I hear the sirens."

I know no further explanation is necessary. There's only one kind of siren in District 12 and it always means death and tragedy. His brows furrow as if I'm a puzzle to solve and he continues to stroke my back.

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Katniss. It won't. I promise," he says softly, stroking the hair back from my face.

I go very still and I know he can feel the rigidness of the muscles. Most days I'm able to forget that he's mine to lose, just like my mother lost my father. I had convinced myself I was reliving losing my father. In the wake of being orphaned, it made sense that he would be in the forefront of my subconscious. However, a little voice in the back of my mind whispered the logic of being afraid of losing Gale. Day in and day out I watched him walk in the front door, blackened with soot and bone-tired. I'd grown accustom to him being in bed beside me each night, even if we don't touch. It seemed normal to hear his steady inhale and exhale next to me. The sound of a siren could take that from me in an instant. I'm not prepared to face that thought, or what it could mean about us.

"I know that," I barely murmur. "I know you're careful."

We're both aware that I haven't addressed what he said directly. He knows I wasn't thinking about him, at least consciously.

"Try to sleep, Katniss. I'll be right here." Gale's hand doesn't leave my back, and the pit of worry gnawing at my stomach only increases. I don't want to hurt Gale, and in not thinking about him, that's all I seem to do.

Gale has already left for work by the time I wake up. The demand has increased with us staring down the barrel of winter, and hours have been extended. The few extra coins are welcome, but it only makes me feel more guilty about waking Gale up from his precious sleep yet again. It's unusual that I don't hear him get up and get ready. Usually I'm a light sleeper, but the nightmares have really taken it out of me. Prim has the kettle for tea over the fire and is brushing her hair at the kitchen table.

"Good morning, Katniss."

"Morning, Prim." I manage a small smile for her.

"I saw Gale off this morning. He said he'd try to bring me back some of those twigs with the little red berries on them from the Meadow on his way home. I thought they'd be nice to bring to Momma, and it's too late in the year for flowers."

I feel guilty that I hadn't thought to visit our mother's grave since Prim and I last talked. I feel even more guilty that Prim doesn't think she can ask me to get them for her.

"I could have done that with you, you know. You didn't have to ask Gale."

"I know. He offered when I told him you and I were planning on visiting her."

I can't explain why it bothers me that Prim is asking for Gale's help and not mine. He's always taken care of my family. I can't begrudge him for that.

"Well, next time, I'll do it. Gale's busy enough as it is."

"He just wants to help, Katniss."

I know she means with more than just the berries, but I don't feel like getting into that with her today. I move around the kitchen, mindlessly preforming the tasks necessary to get us ready to leave for school.

I sit down at the table with my mint tea and half a slice of tesserae bread, sliding the other half towards Prim. She's looking at me expectantly.

"Yes, Prim?"

"I'm sure you don't care or haven't noticed, but the Harvest Festival is tonight."

The Harvest Festival is a long standing tradition in District 12 and even predates Panem. Everyone comes together to celebrate the end of the growing season; it's one last hoorah before winter. Typically there's bon fires in the town square, each family brings whatever food they can to spare for themselves, and a few of the old-timers, that still remember and have the time, play music while the younger people dance. We haven't been there in years, since before my father died. First, it was embarrassing to not have enough extra to bring something and I couldn't coax my mother out of the house, then I simply didn't have time for it. I would have rather spend the evening hunting while all the Peacekeepers were too busy with the Festival to notice.

"I guess it is," I say neutrally. I know full well she's going to ask if we can go. Truthfully, being around a lot of people was never something I enjoyed, but I can't miss the way her face lights up at the thought. She's thirteen now, and this is exactly the kind of thing a thirteen-year-old should be worrying about. All along I've tried to make life as normal for her as possible.

"Katniss, can we please go?"

I sigh. "Yeah, I guess we can." It just might be worth subjecting myself to a few hours in town for the way her face lights up with excitement.

"I'm going over to Hazelle's after school. I promised Posy I'd braid her hair."

I look at her blankly. "Just on the off-chance that we were going, right?"

She gives me a cheeky smile back. "Of course."

When did I wake up and have responsibility for a teenager? "Grab your stuff. It's time for school."

Sitting through History of Panem, I can't help but feel bad for telling Prim we could go to the Harvest Festival tonight without talking to Gale first. He's been dead tired every night this week and my nightmares certainly haven't helped the matter. On one hand, I feel like he should have had a say in the matter, on another, I can't shake the annoyance at having to run my plans through someone else. If he's tired, he can just stay home and sleep.

On the walk home from school, I silently war with myself on how best to approach Gale. After realizing last night that I fairly consistently cause him pain by not thinking about how my actions affect him, I shouldn't have just told Prim without talking to him first. I can begrudgingly admit that he includes my opinion in most things and I need to start extending the same courtesy. Prim waves me off as she continues to Hazelle's house with Posy and I head inside to scrounge up something decent to take as a picnic.

A few creative, leftovers as ingredient sandwiches, a generous handkerchief of roasted pumpkin seeds, and canteens of water tucked into a basket with a blanket and I figure it's good enough. On a whim, I pull out a long sleeved burgundy dress of my mother's and some grey, woolen leggings. I lace up my hunting boots and finger through my hair and rebraid it to smooth back the wisps that have escaped throughout the day. Prim returns and gives me a sly grin and I roll my eyes at her. Everyone else will be dressed up like Reaping Day, no sense in sticking out like a sore thumb any more than I'm bound to feel anyway.

"Here, sit." I say gesturing to one of the kitchen chairs. "Let me fix your hair." I know my mother undoubtedly would have done the same. That's what this is all about anyway, making it seem as normal as possible for Prim.

Just as I'm putting the finishing touches on a fairly weak attempt to style her hair like my mother would be able to the front door slams shut announcing Gale has returned home from work.

Gale lets out a low whistle, "It's not every day I come home to the two of you looking so fancy. Are you sure I'm at the right house?"

"Katniss is taking me to the Harvest Festival." Prim explains to him.

"Is she?" Gale raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I thought it'd be nice. You know, for Prim." I can't explain the nervousness I feel at having this conversation with Gale. He won't get mad, not in front of Prim, I know that. He has every right to though, I haven't communicated a thing to him.

"It would be." Gale says, his expression guarded. "Mind if I clean up real quick? I'd love to take you both."

Prim lights up and he smiles at her ducking back to the washroom. I give him a few minutes to do most of the heavy washing away of the coal residue and sweat, steel myself, and knock softly on the door. He opens it and is surprised to see me standing on the other side. He's shirtless and I will myself not to flush red at the sight.

"I should have talked to you first. About the festival. I'm sorry. She asked this morning and I just said yes. I know I've been keeping you up all week so if you're tired you don't have to come." I say in a rush, unable to look at him in the eye and settle for his chest instead.

"I don't mind Catnip, really. It'll be nice to spend some time with the kids, I don't get to see them as much. I'm sorry I didn't think of it sooner."

He means it to be reassuring but I only end up feeling more guilty. He barely sees the kids anymore, he's just too tired at the end of the day. We've been trying to go to Hazelle's a few nights a week for dinner but I know it's not the same as when he was there with them every night. And really, it's all my fault. He'd never say it, but I know it's true.

"Still, I should have told you first." I finally look him in the eye. "Sorry."

He gives me a small smile. "It's fine Catnip. Don't sweat it."

I just nod and walk back to the kitchen to pointlessly rearrange things in the basket. I can feel Prim's eyes on me the whole time but chose to ignore it. Gale reemerges from the bathroom shortly after dressed in the same clothes he wore to our wedding. They're the only nice set of clothes he owns but it makes my stomach flip flop. I grab the basket and a worn out quilt to sit on and follow him and Prim out the front door. Gale offers her his arm which makes her giggle. She's too young to remember our father doing the same but it makes my heart feel lighter that he's so good with her. I suppose Posy has been good practice. I'm glad there's someone in her life there to show her how she should be treated. He turns his eyes to me and offers his other arm.

"Not sure how I lucked out getting to take the two prettiest girls in the district out tonight." I just roll my eyes at him. He'd never be this cheesy if it weren't for Prim.

Fairly quickly we've located Hazelle and the other kids and lay our blanket out beside them. It's nice getting to chat with Hazelle while Rory and Prim gossip about school. Posy naturally gravitates towards Gale. The music starts up and Gale shoots his mother a devilish grin.

"Ma." Gale says standing up and extending his hand to pull her to her feet.

Hazelle gives him an exasperated smile and shakes her head. He takes her hand anyway and hauls her off to the makeshift dance floor between the various bonfires outlining the town square. I munch on some pumpkin seeds and keep a half eye on Posy who has wandered a few blankets over to visit with a school friend and half eye on Gale twirling Hazelle around on the dance floor.

I notice that Vick is sitting dejectedly away from the crowd. Not wanting the kid to feel left out, I walk over and sit next to him. "What's up, Vick?"

"Rory is an ass," he says bitterly.

I'm taken back by his language. My gut reaction is to laugh at him, but I know it'd only encourage the language or make him feel like I'm making fun of him.

"You shouldn't call your brother that," I say gently.

"Well, it's true. He's just like Gale." He scowls.

This I do laugh at. All three boys are the spitting image of each other, complete with tall stature, thick dark hair, and gray eyes. Vick has always been the more introverted of the group, much quieter and more sensitive. Gale and Rory have more outward confidence. Neither Gale nor Rory would admit it, but Vick is definitely the brains of the bunch. If circumstance were different, he could go on for more school to become a doctor or engineer.

"Well, what did he do?" I ask, choosing to ignore the fact that sometimes I agree Gale is an ass, too. I shouldn't bad mouth Gale to his almost twelve-year-old brother, even if his pain-in-the-ass tendencies are common knowledge within the family.

He lets out a huff of breath, giving me the side eye, sizing me up to determine if I'm really interested or just looking for the opportunity to make fun of him. Finally, he decides I must pass the test. "He said something to Prim."

"Vick, you're going to have to help me out here. They're friends, they talk all the time," I say, not unkindly.

"No, not just any something," he stammers, his face turning scarlet. I wait patiently for him to finish.

"He told her I like her." His olive skin turns an even deeper shade of scarlet.

"Well, yeah, of course you do. You guys have known each other for years."

Vick lets out a deep huff that blows his bangs off his forehead and rolls his eyes, looking so much like Gale in that moment I have to bite my lip from smiling. "No, like, like like her, Katniss."

"Ooh," I say, still failing to see how this is an issue, but it's obviously a big deal to Vick. I school my features to remain neutral. "Well, what did she say?"

He gives me one more brilliant signature Hawthorne scowl. "Well, I obviously didn't stick around to find out."

"Well, then maybe that's not a bad thing. Maybe Prim didn't mind. You guys are only about a year apart, after all." I hope this is the answer he's looking for. Prim has never came to me with boy trouble before, and I certainly haven't had any myself. Well, until I ended up married, but I hardly think that experience applies in this situation.

"Yeah, well, Rory thinks he's got dibs just because he's older," Vick says exasperatedly.

"Dibs?" I quizzically narrow my eyebrows.

"Don't you know anything, Katniss? Gale wasn't kidding when he said you were a little clueless."

And I did feel every bit the younger of the two of us in that moment. The inner workings of who likes who completely escape me. I never had time for them at his age, too busy trying to keep food on the table. It's a testament to how hard Gale and I have worked to shelter our siblings that they're able to have normal teenage concerns, instead of just pure survival. However, I'm completely unprepared to impart any kind of wisdom on this situation.

"Dibs. You know, like claiming something."

"Vick, the finer point of calling dibs on something might have escaped my social education, but I do know my sister." He perks up a bit at this. At least his disbelieving scowl has returned to neutral. "She's the most kind and tenderhearted person I've ever met, but she still is her own person. I don't think Rory deciding for her that he's got dibs or whatever is going to go over well. Let her decide for herself. Just be thoughtful and kind. She'll notice you, especially considering the finer points of being subtle seems to escaped Rory."

We both look to where Prim and Rory are seated, on a bench on the fringe of the crowd. Prim is engrossed in whatever story Posy and her friend is telling her, and Rory is trying to not-so-casually put his arm around her shoulder. Prim is leaning as far from Rory as the tight quarters seating allows and the tenseness in her shoulders is unmistakable. Clearly Rory is oblivious to how uncomfortable he's making her, because he's grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

Just as I make a move to intercede on Prim's behalf, Vick has abruptly stalked through the crowd. He returns a minute later, clutching two mason jar glasses of water and offers one to Prim. She gives him a radiant smile and stands up to accept it, carefully untangling herself from Rory's grasp. At this, Vick subconsciously stands a little bit taller, easily three inches taller than Prim, and exuding a careful kind of confidence that shouldn't be allowed on a boy his age.

"What are you smirking at, Catnip?" Gale asks, interrupting my observance.

"Just our siblings," I reply nonchalantly, unable to keep the corner of my mouth from turning up just a bit further.

"Yeah, I saw Rory's slick arm along the bench shoulder-grab a minute ago. I'm going to have a talk with that kid."

I break out into a full on grin. "Yeah, make sure you have that talk with Rory about dibs. I wouldn't want him to get the wrong impression about girls, especially my sister."

Gale knows I'm teasing him, and for once, I'm enjoying the fact that he isn't immediately aware of how exactly he's being teased. He just shakes his head slowly at me and give me a small, impish grin.

"I saw you talking with Vick. Thanks for being so nice to my family, Katniss, really I appreciate it."

"Vick and I understand each other. No thanks needed. He's my family, too."

"You'll never cease to amaze me, Katniss."

I shake my head but give him a genuine smile back.

"Come on, I know you know this one," Gale says, grabbing my hand and leading me out to the center with the other dancers, not giving me time to protest. I do know this dance. One of my very first memories of the Harvest Festival is dancing to this song with my father as a very small girl. It's full of partner swings, weaving loops, and quick turns. Barely anyone gets the steps exactly right, but there's plenty of laughter at trying. My father always use to sing the words in my ear as he spun me around.

The fiddler strikes a high note as a cue, and I'm suddenly tumbling my way through the steps. Gale swings me around in a circle and I'm passed off to the man at our right as Gale swings around his partner. Weaving and spinning, laughing at missteps, we all forget who is Merchant and who is Seam for a moment and just enjoy the jubilant atmosphere. No one is worried about having enough food for winter or being able to afford coal for fuel. The everyday worries that are the very fabric of life in District 12 are momentarily forgotten.

The dance has me often changing partners, but every time I swing around and catch Gale's eye he makes a face at me, causing me to laugh. The choreography has us always finding our way back together. I grip his hands as the song comes to an end, and instead of the typical bow and curtsey at the end, he sweeps me into a low dip. I clutch him even harder to keep from falling over and throw my head back and laugh. He's grinning like a fool when he pulls me upright. I'm glad when he keeps an arm around my back because I'm dizzy from the head rush of being dipped.

I smack him lightly on the chest. "You know, you shouldn't cross your eyes like that at people. Didn't your mom tell you that they might get stuck that way?"

This, of course, prompts him to cross them again and make a face at me. I stick my tongue out at him in retaliation when Prim sneaks up behind me and grabs my hand. Before I realize it, we're off spinning to another partner line dance. In that moment, I don't regret coming out here with my sister tonight. She's the laughing, carefree thirteen-year-old I hoped she'd have the chance to be, and I'm actually enjoying myself. My hunter's instinct kicks in and I can feel eyes in the crowd watching me. Across the sea of dancers, I see Gale standing on the outskirts with Posy hoisted up on his shoulders so she can have a better view. The small smile on his face makes him look instantly younger, the worry lines gone from his strong face. My heart clutches at the sight and I misstep, causing Prim to throw her head back, laughing at me. The song comes to an end, I give Prim an exaggerated bow and find my way back to Hazelle and the kids for a breather.

The dance will go on into the wee hours of the morning, but the kids won't last that long. Prim finds a seat next to me and rests her head on my shoulder. Gale saunters over with Posy still on his shoulders, her head bobbing slightly as she fights sleep.

"Shall we?" Hazelle says to her excited but overtired group. I raise my eyebrows to Gale, and he gives me a short nod. Seamlessly we all grab our things and make our way back home.

Prim is leaning on my shoulder on the walk back. I can see both Rory and Vick fighting exhaustion as they soldier on in front of us. We reach our house first and Gale turns to me. "I'm going to carry Posy home. I'll be back in just a few minutes."

I've settled into bed before I hear the front door shut behind Gale and the lock turn. His stealthy steps would go unnoticed by anyone but me, who is accustom to his movement in the woods. He pulls his shirt over his head, not bothering as usual to change into his pajamas in the bathroom and I roll over with my back to him to give him some privacy to change. The bed sags with his weight as he lays down on his side. I'm almost asleep when he whispers, "I like dancing with you, Catnip."

"I like dancing with you too, Gale," I whisper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you all for your patience. I know I've sucked at updating. I appreciate all of your kind words and support. I'll try to be better about answering reviews this time around as well. Big thanks to my amazing beta Clara Meliza. She had to do plenty of hand holding this time around. She's the best, seriously. 
> 
> Come hang out with me on tumblr, I'm Loreleieve over there as well. I post plenty of Gale/Katniss pics, occasional previews, and pictures of the time suck that has become my life- my new house.


	8. Chapter 8

Snow drifts are piling high over the walkway up to our house. I cringe a bit but go to layer up a few sweaters under my father's hunting coat. Gale has been coming home later and later due to the high coal demand with the record-breaking low temperatures, and the last thing we need is for him to fall and break his neck walking up the pathway in the dark.

Prim and I spent the afternoon doing our best to fill in the cracks of the house in a vain attempt to trap the heat in. She's still searching for the illusive crack she's convinced is the cause for the lack of warmth in back room we use to wash up, but I know better. The house is just poorly built, and I don't have the heart to tell her it's a wasted effort.

Stepping out onto the porch, I nearly go sprawling face-first into the pile of snow from yesterday, due to an unexpected mass huddled up on the front porch. Swinging the door back open in an attempt for more light, allowing more cursed cold air into the house, I see that the small mass is actually a hunched-over body.

"Prim! Prim, come help me!" I yell, acting on instinct. A moment too late I realize I should have checked to make sure the body was still living before calling Prim over, but I hear her footsteps thundering behind me.

Without a moment's hesitation, she helps me brush the worst of the snow off our unexpected house guest and drag them into the living room in front of the fire place. It doesn't escape either of us that it's a very light burden to drag. Prim immediately snaps into action with a single minded determination I've only seen on one other person in an emergency—our mother. It's that look of determination that keeps me from running for the woods. Carefully unwrapping the too thin, frozen blankets, I vaguely recognize the body as Nessa Anson, a Seam girl two years older than me. She was in Gale's grade at school, but I can't recall him ever mentioning much of anything about her. She's huddled around herself tightly, but there's no mistaking the rattling sound of her breathing.

"Katniss, I'm going to need you to start boiling some water and grinding up some herbs for me, can you do that?" Prim says, not lifting her eyes from her patient as she systematically checks her vital signs.

Nessa's labored breathing sounds all too familiar and I want nothing more than to disappear, but I can't leave Prim alone. I barely have time to wonder how she knew to come here—we haven't had anyone show up at our door since our mother died—when Prim's calling me back with a shocked voice, "Katniss, please come take this."

I place the kettle on the stove and turn around to see my sister offering a small bundle she's holding delicately in her hands. A baby.

"Prim, I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it!"

"Just hold him, Katniss. Try and warm him up," Prim demands, leaving no room for argument.

Awkwardly, she shifts the half frozen bundle into my reluctant arms. He lets out a weak cry in protest. "Hold him close to your chest, Katniss, over by the fire."

Nessa, upon hearing her son's cry begins to stir. Weakly she calls out for him in a rasping voice, "Leif...Leif..."

"Shh, he's fine. Katniss has him. Let's lay you back and let me take care of you," Prim says in her gentle but commanding healer voice.

My memories of holding Prim as baby consist of me sitting on the sofa and my mother placing her in my arms under her very watchful eye. This by no means qualifies me to take care of this small person. The baby's head feels cool to the touch, so I tuck him as closely to my neck as I can manage and sway next to the fire. I hope Prim is able to take him soon because we're going to need more firewood from outside and I haven't started anything for dinner yet.

"Is he warming up?" Prim asks.

I nod. "Yeah, he's better."

"Good. Go grab as many blankets as you can. Can you find an old nightgown? I need to get her out of these wet clothes."

"What do I do with him?" I ask her helplessly.

"Carry him, Katniss. You've got two arms."

"Prim! What if I drop him?"

"Well, don't." This new teenage attitude of hers is going to get old quickly.

I awkwardly shift him in my arms and go to pull the blankets off Prim's bed. Nessa looks to be in bad shape and I know my sister well enough to know she won't leave a patient alone all night. I unceremoniously drop them next to the couch and go back to my bedroom to grab a nightgown. Nothing of Prim's would fit her, even as slight as she is. Prim has her clothes mostly off by the time I get back, and I feel my face flush. I glance back to the door. Gale should be home any minute and I'd prefer Nessa to be dressed. Prim's able to rouse her enough to slip the nightgown over her head and scoot up to the couch. She leaves me with the task to one-handedly cover her with blankets while she begins prepping some medication.

The baby begins to fuss, but Nessa is too far gone to take him. Not knowing what else to do, I bounce him gently in my arms and sway back and forth in front of the fire. "Prim?"

"Katniss, you're going to just have to make do. I have to get this medicine together for Nessa, or we're going to have bigger problems than a fussy baby," Prim calmly, yet firmly, tells me from the kitchen.

Are they supposed to cry this long? Shouldn't he stop? Does he need his diaper changed? We don't even have diapers. Is he hungry? Can Nessa even feed him? Should I keep him away from her, so he doesn't get sick?

I don't have the answer to any of these questions, and the baby's cries increase with my growing panic. I'm rocking him, shushing him, telling him it'll be fine, but his distress calls me out for the liar that I am. A burst of cold air whirls through the room, causing him to shriek louder. The slam of the front door against the gust tells me Gale is home.

I turn and meet his eyes as he completes his quick sweeping assessment of the situation. Still black with coal, he sets his lunch pail down by the door and hangs up his hard hat. He gives me an indecipherable look and turns to Prim. "What can I do?"

I barely have a moment to be thankful for his unquestioning acceptance and willingness to help before Prim is rattling off instructions that include getting more firewood and running down to Hazelle's for extra blankets and something warm to change the squalling baby in my arms into. Unable to do anything else, I continue to sway and bounce with the baby in front of the fire, willing Gale godspeed in returning. He was much older when Posy was born and will know how to make the crying stop.

The fifteen minutes it takes Gale to return from Hazelle's with blankets and baby supplies is long enough for the baby to work himself into a screaming, hiccuping panic that is not only upsetting me, but trying Prim's patience as Nessa tries to reach out to him in her fevered delirium. Not missing a beat, Gale deposits the items next to Prim, who is applying a minty paste to Nessa's chest, throws me a sympathetic glance, and disappears into the back room to wash away the coal dust.

I could cry with relief when he reemerges changed and clean with arms outstretched for the baby. I give him a genuine smile of relief and turn to go start dinner when Gale grabs my arm to stop me.

"Katniss, we need to change him and feed him. Think you can help me with that?" His look is telling, not asking. I let out a deep sigh.

"What do you want first?"

Gale shoots me a cocky, crooked grin. "Let's start with the diaper. Hazelle sent over some clean rags and pins we can change him into. Let's get him out of this sleeper—it feels damp. Spread a blanket out on the floor, so I can set him down."

I don't need to tell him the dampness is mostly my sweat from holding him and bouncing him in front of the fire, my sweat soaked shirt is evidence enough. Gale's able to lay him down and pull his sleeper off with much more care than I'd expect from such a big man. The baby's small limbs look so delicate and breakable in Gale's capable hands. I'm hanging back to the side when Gale tells me, "You better cover that up quick, unless you're planning on taking a bath tonight."

I flush a deep red and scramble to cover the now naked baby with a diaper as Gale sifts through the pile of stuff from Hazelle to find another sleeper. I am profoundly uncomfortable with anyone's nudity, especially in the presence of Gale. I can feel Gale's smiling eyes on me and choose to ignore him. "Should we feed him or something?"

Unable to keep the laughter out of his voice, he says, "Sure, Catnip, go get some goats milk. Hazelle didn't have any bottles, but I think we can dip the corner of a rag in it and let him suck on it, at least until his mother is doing better."

I practically run out the backdoor, not even bothering to grab a coat. I feel guilty, but I take twice as long as I should to milk Lady and return to the house, despite the biting cold. The house is now sweltering. Somehow Gale was able to light the stove for tea, stoke the fire, add wood, and calm the baby down to a low fuss, as opposed to the horrifying screaming he was doing with me in the time I was gone.

"Here, Catnip, I'll get dinner started," Gale says as he transfers the baby to my arms and takes the jug of milk in one movement. I have no choice but to hold him. I shoot him a dirty look that he pretends not to see. "Sit down at the table. Can you shift him to the crook of your arm? Prop his head up. We'll try and feed him."

Gale's idea for the rag and milk works surprisingly well. The screeching all but stops as he sucks on the cloth. Now that he's not crying, I can see the brilliant blue of his eyes. Nessa is thoroughly Seam with her dark grey eyes, olive skin tone, and dark hair. Her son, however, has barely brown hair and much lighter skin tone. I know without having to ask that his father isn't from the Seam.

"He has such blue eyes," I say, absentminded. They remind me of Prim as a baby.

The muscles in Gale's jaw tighten. "Glad to see Cray is doing such a great job taking care of his own."

My eyes flash to his. Gale has no way of knowing if the baby is the head Peacekeeper's any more than if he were a Merchant's kid. It doesn't matter, though, they're all guilty as far as he's concerned. Nessa, without the hunting skills I have, had no other choice but to sell the one thing she had to survive. Had I not married Gale, there might have been a time I lined up in the queue outside Cray's house and put aside my dignity for one more chance at living. Rather than rising to his bait, I ignore his comments.

It's a long night before we're all fed, warm, and Prim has seen to doing all that she can for Nessa. It goes unspoken, but we're both aware how much the rattle in her chest sounds like our mother. There's a tightness in the corner of Prim's eye and a mechanical determination in her movements. She's just as terrified as I am that we'll wake up and Nessa won't be any better. Gale has moved Prim's threadbare mattress out to the living room. I couldn't find it in myself to forbid her from staying out there all night. Part of me wonders if I hadn't forced her to go to bed maybe our mother would still be alive.

Nessa's son is wakeful and fussy, but Prim can't focus on both of them and Gale needs to sleep. I tell him good night and insist that I'll be fine. We both know it's an absolute lie, as I don't have a clue what I'm doing, but his day will be a lot harder to face without sleep than mine. Hours later, I'm still pacing the kitchen holding him—he refuses to let me sit him down—and I've resorted to singing to him, lullabies at first, but I've moved on to just about any song I can think of.

"Peaches in the summertime, Apples in the fall, If I can't get the girl I love, I don't want none at all. Shady grove, my little love, shady grove, I know, Shady grove, my little love, I'm bound for shady grove."

I'm swaying with him, no longer fussing on my shoulder, looking out the dark kitchen window, when I hear the floor creak behind me. Gale has his arms wrapped around himself, hunched slightly forward, leaning up against the door jam in the hallway.

I duck my head at being caught singing. "You should be in bed. I've got it under control out here."

"I just woke up and you weren't there," he says, giving me a small shoulder shrug.

I give him a small smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Come to bed."

"What do I do with him? Prim's out cold," I ask, gesturing to the small, finally sleeping bundle in my arms.

"Bring him to bed, Katniss. We don't have anywhere else for him. We'll put him in the middle."

"Don't they cry at night? You need to sleep," I try to rationalize.

"Can't be any worse than your nightmares. It'll be fine, come on." I'm too tired to argue and follow him back to the room. We burrow out a space for him between us and lay down facing one another.

"Gale, this is terrifying. We'll squish him." Doesn't he realize how small and helpless he is?

"Shhh, go to sleep, Katniss. He'll be fine." I catch his shining grey eyes across the bed and have to look away. Laying in the dark with him, being responsible for another human being is too intimate, too vulnerable and completely unfamiliar. I close my eyes and try to ignore him staring at me across the bed.

It's an easy feat, I'm exhausted and am able to sleep through what's remaining of the night to the morning. Gale is up and gone already, but he stacked pillows up to keep Nessa's boy from rolling off the bed at night. It's abundantly clear to me that he's had so much more experience with kids than I have. He'd be a great parent in some other world when he was able to marry someone that isn't me and would give him the family he deserves. Gale and I make great hunting partners, but we'd never be equals as parents. It all comes so easily to him. I try to ignore my disgust with myself on taking yet another thing away from him and hope one last time that Nessa is feeling better this morning.

Her son is still sleeping, but I don't feel right leaving him alone in the bed, so I pluck him up and carefully shift him to my shoulder. He barely makes a sound of protest as we walk into the living room.

Prim greats me with a big, proud smile from the floor where she's kneeling by the couch. I can't hide the sigh of relief that escapes my lips. Nessa is propped up on pillows, looking tired, but very much alive and alert.

"Leif! Oh, I'll never be able to thank you enough," she says to me, holding her arms out for her son.

My smile comes easy as I place him in her arms. "You look much better."

"You and your sister saved our lives. If it weren't for you..." she trails off, voice becoming thick.

I shift on my feet avoiding her gaze. Clearly she's unaware of how hopeless I was keeping her kid happy. If it weren't for Gale and Prim, she certainly would have died on my watch. Prim steps in and begins giving her instructions on medication doses, food schedules, making sure she continues to rest, and where to locate everything in the house. Prim and I don't have the luxury of staying home from school to look after her—part of the agreement of getting guardianship over Prim is that we both continue school—but Nessa isn't strong enough to head back to her house.

I'm proud of the way Prim is able to reassure her that she's welcome here and it's necessary for her to stay the day until we return. Seam pride is hard to argue with, and Prim is holding her own. She has a gentle but firm demeanor that I'd never be able to replicate. She's so knowledgable and likable, nothing like me at her age. I feel like I'm seeing ten years into the future. It's ingrained in Prim to be a caretaker—it comes so naturally to her and she's very good at it. Perhaps the Seam residents won't be so bad off after all.

We have to hustle around to get ready more than normal, but as we're headed out the door, my heart lurches a bit to see the care Nessa gives to her son, despite still being quite sick. I know there was a time my mother treated Prim and I like that, but it's been so long it seems like a dream. It was another time and happened to another person.

I spend more time thinking about the future than the lesson at school, which has become excessively worthless. I have about three months until school will let out for the year and I won't have to return. It's clear that Prim's calling is healing, even at her young age. She won't have anyone to learn from, but she's spent time watching our mother, has our father's plant and healing book, and has a natural talent for it. The only thing I have a natural talent for is illegally hunting. It puts food on the table but won't be enough to keep the Peacekeepers from asking too many questions about how I spend my days. If it weren't for Prim, I'd be tempted to disappear into the woods and live on my own. I don't have much to contribute to the district anyway. Well, if it wasn't for Prim and Gale. He'd never forgive me if I ran off on the Capitol without him, but he'd never leave his family behind. I could always help out Hazelle—in fact, I should be helping out Hazelle. After everything she's done for Prim and I, I certainly owe her.

I've made a habit out of walking Rory, Vick, and Posy home from school each day. I've taken their big brother from them most nights a week, so it's the least I can do. When I get home, Nessa has changed back into her own clothes, her son bundled up on her shoulder, clutching a handkerchief of herbs and posed nervously on the edge of the couch, looking for any excuse to take flight. She doesn't look well, but she's certainly better than when we found her slumped on our front porch. Prim has already completed her afternoon check-up, her pleas for Nessa to stay one more night for observation have gone unheeded. Seam pride and acceptance of help only goes so far.

She catches my eye as I walk through the front door, brushing the worst of the snow off my coat.

"I just wanted to say thank you. We both wouldn't have made it without you." The rough and rawness in her voice is unmistakable, but so is her determination.  
"You're welcome. It was mostly Prim. She's the one with the skill."

She gives me a weak smile. "I know you looked after Leif. I don't have any money, but I'd like to repay you. I'm a fair seamstress. Maybe there's some darning or patchwork I could do for you?"

I don't need to tell her that my mother-in-law is also more than a fair seamstress. She wants to pay and this is a trade I'm comfortable making. Her other skills certainly wouldn't be any use to us, no matter how cute Leif is. "Get better first. We can work something out later."

She stands to go, still clutching the handkerchief and her son tightly. I move out of the door way as she lunges towards me for a brief second, looking like she's torn between hugging me and crying. I instinctively flinch and she pulls back. "Thank you, both. I'll make sure I tell everyone the Hawthorne girls treated me and my boy real kind."

I close the door behind her and look at my sister. While the interaction left me feeling awkward and out of place, Prim is busying herself putting away the rest of the herbs and tidying up her medicine cabinet with an air of pride. Silently, I walk over and give her a big hug.

"I'm real proud of you, Little Duck."

"We had to help her, Katniss. There was no other choice." She wraps her arms back around me and it feels as if she's the one consoling me. I know for certain that in five, ten, fifteen years, Prim will still be healing the Seam sick. We fall into our roles of picking up the house and getting dinner ready. All the sheets and blankets Nessa used will need to be laundered, so I set myself to that task, wondering how Hazelle can do this day in and day out.

It's some time later when a gust of cold air comes rushing in from the front door. I turn and don't miss the way Gale's eyes dart around the house, looking for evidence of our house guests. I almost miss the brief deflation of his shoulders when he realizes they've gone. He catches my eye, and his smile looks a bit odd.

"Nessa feeling better?" Gale turns to Prim.

"Her fever must have broke sometime in the middle of the night. She was doing much better this morning. Still weak, but she'll pull through. She took some herbs I put together for her and some meat. She just needs a good meal and a lot of rest."

"You did a good job, Prim." Gale smiles at her and walks back to the bathroom to wash up.

Sitting down to dinner, Gale abruptly says, "It's quiet in here tonight."

I give him a halfhearted chuckle. "Yeah, it's a little different without Nessa and her kid."

"Leif," Gale tells me seriously. "His name is Leif, Katniss."

"I know," I say back, feeling hurt for no reason. We finish up our dinner in silence, Prim trying to look covertly between the two of us. I'm just as clueless as she is. There's a heavy tension hanging over the table, and for the first time in a long time, I'm unable to get a read on Gale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Guys, I suck at updating. Thank you for sticking with me, your PMs and reviews are encouraging, they do make a difference. A big thank you to my beta Clara Meliza, she rocks as always. I do post little bits on tumblr here and there. I have a few extended scenes from Gale’s POV with more to come. The song is “Shady Grove” which was a popular 18th century folk song. It’s been recorded by over 100 different artists and is very similar to an 16th century English ballad called “Mattie Groves.”


	9. chapter 9

Sundays are still the only day Gale gets to spend more hours above ground than below so we typically head out hunting before dawn. I know he could use the extra sleep but Gale’s spirit could use the clean air of the woods even more. Our Sundays are still not the same, despite how hard we’ve tried to keep them that way. A bone deep weariness is ever present in the forming lines on Gale’s handsome face. We check the snare line and don’t wander too far from the fence with our bows to hunt. Needless to say, Sundays are rarely my big haul days but hunting with Gale has become a different kind of survival for him, it’s not the sustenance--which we always could use more of-- but the freedom of being outside the district and breathing clean air.  
It’s to both of our shock and delight when we hear the distinctive sound of geese honking. Gale spots the gaggle flying in a V formation coming up over the tree line first. We both nock our first arrow and square off our feet. A quick, silent jerk of his head tells me he’ll start at the left and I’ll start at the right of the formation and we’ll work our way to each other in the middle. As they fly within shooting range, Gale and I react like a well oiled machine simultaneously letting the first arrow go and not pausing to see if it hit its target before nocking the next. Before they’ve flown out of range, we’ve managed to bag three geese, more than a decent haul when combined with the rabbits from Gale’s snares. Gale’s smile at our success and thrill of the hunt is infectious and I can’t help but return it. 

We retrieve our kills and sit side by side in our meeting place to pluck the feathers. We’ll be able to stretch a few more coins out of the hunt by selling the feathers and meat separate. Conversation flows easily and I can truly say for the first time in a while, we’re both enjoying each other’s company without any tension. 

The feathers go for a higher price than expected, largely due to cold winter we’ve been having and Gale’s excellent salesman skills at what nice stuffing they’d make for a quilt. We’re floating high on our success and decide to stay for a large bowl of Sae’s stew rather than getting directly back to the house as we’ve become more accustom to. Prim has been in full healer mode lately with the cold. Today she’s grinding up herbs to make medicine and I make sure to keep some goose grease for her to use as a salve. 

Our buoyant mood seems to be catching, we’ve drawn quite a few more people over to linger at Sae’s stall. I’m able to relax next to Gale and enjoy my stew with a small smile on my face. The Hobb has never been a center of entertainment and merriment but for a little while, it almost feels like we’re all doing more than just trying to survive. Shortly, Darius and a younger Peacekeeper I’ve never seen before saunter up and sit down next to us at Sae’s counter. Darius gives a quick nod and flirtatious smile to Sae and throws a few coins down in front of her. She rolls her eyes, sweeps the coins quickly into her apron pocket, turns her back to grab new bowls and begins filling them.

I slide a bit closer to Gale when the new guy sits sideways on his stool so he’s mostly straddling mine, far too close for comfort. Darius shoots me a tight smile and tries to engage his colleague in conversation, already recognizing the danger in messing with Gale and I. Darius knows the uniform he wears safeguards the two of them from any harassment but he respects Gale and I enough to want to avoid any confrontation. I do my best to ignore him and finish my meal quickly, thankful we’ve already conducted our trading for the day. What I can’t ignore is how his leg begins to brush up against mine and his hand slides up to play with my braid in attempt to get my attention. 

“Take your hand off of her.” Gale spits at him. 

“Chill out Seam, no harm done. Besides, it doesn’t look like the little lady minds.” The guy tries for a light, casual tone but fails miserably to ignore the challenge in Gale’s voice. His smile is much more mocking and his eyes more menacing. 

He was dead wrong about not minding but I am too scared for Gale’s reaction to say anything else. The last thing Gale needs is an excuse to punch the guy. Instead I lean away as best I can while still remaining in my seat. 

“That’s my wife, she definitely minds.” Gale clenches his jaw and leans over towards the guy. 

“Wife is it? I would have never known.” He reaches out and tucks a tray hair behind my ear showing his uneven, slightly tobacco stained teeth. “If she ever gets sick of coal dust in her bed, I’m sure we can work out other arrangements.” He gives Gale a predatory smile and shifts his gaze back to me, allowing his eyes to appraise me in a way that makes me feel entirely too exposed. It’s all I can do to stop my heaving stomach from emptying it’s contents all over the ground. 

In one quick movement Gale has pulled me to my feet, pushing behind him, and knocking over his stool in the process. His back is coiled and fits clenched tight at his side. Darius makes a hesitant move between Gale and his colleague but is held back by a stiff out stretched arm. I can hear the calculating thoughts running through Gale’s mind; he’s about ten seconds away from deciding it’s worth the ten lashes he’d receive to hit this guy in the face when I reach out and grab his hand. His hand tightens in mine and he takes an instinctive step back towards me. I scramble to grab our game bag and pull Gale away from the scene with me. Just when I think we’re going to make a clean get away a cocky voice behind us calls. 

“You know we’ve all got your number, right? It’s choice alone that keeps you from the stocks or worse. Everyone knows about your illegal activities, you’d do well to remember that.” 

I tighten my hand in Gale’s and he throws his arm over my shoulder in response. I’m unsure which of us is leading whom out of the Hobb but I don’t really care as long as we leave immediately. I’m trembling, out of fright or rage I can’t be sure. 

“Damnit Gale! Why did you have to do that?” I move to the side, extracting myself his grasp as soon as we hit the crisp air. I’m still shaking and there’s tears blurring in my eyes but I know instantly that I’ve pushed one button too many.

“He put his hands on you Katniss! You’re my wife! Why the hell wouldn’t I?” Gale bites back, not even trying to control his anger. He rakes his hand through his hair making the ends stand up in disarray. 

“I could have handled it. He wasn’t hurting anyone. Darius teases me all the time.” I can’t help but clench my teeth in vain attempt to control my emotions. I know this was different with a visceral fear but now isn’t the time to get into that with Gale. 

“That wasn’t teasing Katniss. He thinks he had a right. You know what happens around here when someone thinks they have a right.” Gale says coldly. “Why, did you want him to put his hands on you?” 

“No! How could you even think that?” He must be joking; I’ve never heard Gale be so intentionally cruel. I know he’s upset but I can’t reconcile how Gale could suggest any part of that interaction was wanted. 

“So I was just suppose to let him touch you?” He ignores my question. His face is a blank mask but his eyes are dancing with rage. This is a level of anger I’ve never seen from Gale. 

“No but I was handling it Gale.” My clipped tone makes it clear this discussion is over. I begin to walk back toward our house. 

“That didn’t look like handling it Katniss. Don’t ever expect me to sit back and let someone touch you like that.” The finality is clear in his voice and I don’t like it. Rationally, I know I should wait until we’ve both calmed down to respond but the fuse has been lit and either of us are able to stop it. 

I spin around on my heels to face him. “What else should I add to the list of things to expect from you Gale? One minute you’re the Gale I’ve known hunting for years and the next you’re some jealous, angry version of Gale I don’t know what to do with.” 

“That makes two of us.” Gale mutters under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I didn’t quite catch what you said.” I ask dripping with sarcasm. He knows full well I heard what he said. 

“Yep. I don’t know what to do with you either Katniss. One minute I think things can work between us, the next minute I have to throw on all the breaks so I don’t scare you off, and then just for fun you decide you don’t want anything to do with me. There’s no rhyme or reason to which Katniss I’m going to get. I’m getting whiplash. Make up your damn mind.” 

“You knew what this was Gale! You knew why I was marrying you! As you so bluntly pointed out to me, I didn’t have a whole lot of option. You’re the one that keeps touching me and acting like I’m your damn possession.” The words come erupting out of me before I can stop them and I instantly wish I could recall them. He did me a favor by marrying me and I’m repaying him by throwing it back in his face. 

“I can’t help it Katniss! I’m sorry I’m not perfect. Do you know how hard it is to go to bed next to you every night? To come home from work and see you in the kitchen? To watch you with your sister? To spend time with you in the woods and want so badly to have all of you? To have all of that and know you’re my wife? My wife who was just being pawed at by some asshole in uniform that thinks he has a right to you. My wife that doesn’t want me to protect her unless it’s on her terms. I know this is just some game to you but it’s not for me. Don’t you get it?! I want all of you Katniss.” 

“Gale... it’s not like that between us. You told me you understood! You said you’d respect that!”

“Damnit Katniss! So I’m just suppose to be celibate the rest of my life? Or would you prefer me to sneak around behind your back down at the slag heap? Everyone already accuses you of being a bad wife, I can sleep around on you and confirm it. Quite frankly I’m getting sick of defending you all the time.” 

I feel like I’ve been slapped. I can’t help the red flush that creeps up my face and all I want to do is run. I know I’m a bad wife. I know I’m not enough for him. I know he deserves better but I just don’t know how to be that for him. It’s one thing to know that, it’s another to hear it from Gale directly. 

“Maybe you should then. You knew what this was when you married me Gale.” I say in a voice that doesn’t sound like mine, so cold and detached. 

“No, I guess I didn’t Katniss. I knew you needed time but I didn’t know it wasn’t ever going to change between us.” I can hear the hollowness to his words, I’ve gone too far but that doesn’t stop me from being angry. 

“Gale I went from your hunting partner to your wife over night, I’d say a lot changed between us!” 

“You don’t know the first fucking thing about being someone’s wife Katniss. The only person you genuinely care about and do more than tolerate these days is Prim.” 

“You’re right. I’ve been tolerating you. I’ve been tolerating your touches, the way you talk to me, the pretending we’re doing. I’m done tolerating it. The gigs up. I’m done with it. Feel free to go screw whoever you want. It’ll be just like old times, won’t it?” 

Steel flashes in his eyes and his face darken. He turns on his heels and stormed up the path to our house, slamming the door behind him. My fists are balled and my nails are digging into my palms. The recess of my mind makes me dimly aware that we just screamed at each other in the middle of the Seam. More neighbors than not are peering through front windows or standing on their front porch. The whole valley had been witness to our fiery fight and those that weren’t certainly would hear about it. I had an overwhelming desire to tell them all to go fuck off but slinked up the the dirt path to the house wishing I could just disappear. 

Gale was laying on the couch with his back to me, pillow tucked under his arm and his lanky legs awkwardly arranged on the too small makeshift bed. Pretending not to notice him or the look of bewilderment from my sister in the kitchen, I thundered back to our room and closed the door. 

Stretching out in bed, unaccustomed to the extra space, I can’t help but feel utterly alone. More than just the absence of his physical presence, I miss the ease of our relationship. I am so sick of doubting or reading into each smile, each time his arm brushes mine, how much of our relationship is real and how much of it has become some twisted game of not real.


	10. Chapter 10

Three weeks. Three miserable weeks is how long I can go ignoring another human being in my house. Three weeks of tense, uncomfortable dinners only speaking to my sister and trying in vain not to wait for him to come to bed after everything has been cleaned up. Three weeks of having an empty bed and missing normal conversation. Three weeks of him not coming straight home and staying up wondering if he’s at his mother’s house or if he took my spiteful advice and found someone else. Three weeks of picturing undercover kisses and stolen moments. Three weeks of knowing how stupid the fight was and that I’ve lost far more than I gained. Three weeks is more than enough to figure out I’m horribly sorry and want to make it all up. But three weeks seems like an impossibly short time for me to figure out how to fix it. 

It became abundantly clear from the whispers and stares at school the entire valley must of heard our fight. I have not only to come around to the idea that I am the only girl in school that’s married but I’m also horrible at fulfilling the role of wife and they all know it. Rather than embarrassment that anyone else knows my business, I am filled with shame that I’ve put Gale in the position I have. He’s right, of course. He’ll never be able to be intimate with anyone but me without starting rumors and dragging my name through the mud. I don’t care for my sake but I don’t want any of it to reach Prim or the Hawthorne kids’ ears. Gale, who has done so much for me, does not deserve the dishonor of having to sneak around on his wife. I owe him better than that for his unwavering caring and loyalty to me. Pride and honor are the only things he’s been able to count on in his life and I can’t ask him to compromise that. And if I’m being honest with myself, I can’t stand the thought of his kisses or touch belonging to anyone else. The possessive streak I feel is more than just competition or unwillingness to share what is mine; I would be crushed if he wanted anyone other than me. Resolved to fix this and not let another day go by with things awkward between Gale and I, I come up with a plan. 

I spend the afternoon following school checking the snare line and resetting it, dropping game off at Hazelle’s house, and coaxing Prim into helping me make dinner. When I feel like we’ve managed to throw together a pride worthy stew, I begin boiling large kettles of water. Lately, Gale has been washing up in the basin in the small room we use as our washroom. With a hand pump to fetch the water that flows from the cold well out back, he typically washes up after work with a rag, too exhausted to draw water to heat up over the fire for a proper bath. It leaves the bedsheets a bit sooty but I certainly don’t blame him. It’s a lot of work for a hot bath. Seeing as I have the time, I feel slightly guilty that I hadn’t thought to do this for him before. 

The sun is burning orange through the kitchen window and like clockwork, Gale walks in through the front door, stopping immediately to hang up his hard hat and take off his boots, an action I’ve seen him do countless times since moving in together and many more times from my father before him. The familiarity brings a smile to my face as I lug the final boiling pot of water towards the washroom. 

“Sit down to eat while it’s still warm, the bath water should be about perfect by the time you’re done.” I call over my shoulder. I disappear through the door but don’t miss the look of surprise on Gale’s face. We haven’t had a civil conversation in weeks. This might be the coward’s way out, but it’s better than nothing. 

The three of us sit down to eat. Gale’s eyes catch mine over the table. Any trace of anger from our fight is long gone but he’s still weary over my changed demeanor. I try to hide the shame that I’m feeling with how I’ve handled things in the past. I know this isn’t how normal people communicate and I know this is far from resolution but I figure if anyone will understand, it’s Gale. 

“Prim, dinner is delicious, thank you.” Gale says around a mouth full of hearty stew. 

“Katniss did most of the work, I just supervised.” Prim says with a smile, giving me far more credit than is due. Heavy handed instruction is more accurate than supervision. 

“Really?” Gale’s eyebrow arches in surprise. “This is really good Catnip.” 

I can’t help but laugh and shake my head. I know he doesn’t mean his shock as an insult but I am fairly hopeless in the kitchen. Besides, he hasn’t called me Catnip in three weeks. I chuckle, “Thanks.” 

We finish our meal quickly in companionable conversation with Prim spearheading as usual. I rise to take away his empty bowl. “The water is probably a decent temperature. Let me know if I need to warm it up any.”

It’s a subtle dismissal. I don’t want him to think he has to help with the dishes. I owe him this penance. I might not be able to say it out loud, but I am sorry and he was right in a lot of ways. 

“You didn’t have to go to all that trouble Catnip.” Gale says to my retreating back. 

“I know.” I reply simply over my shoulder. And I know I don’t have to, but for once, I wanted to. His footsteps retreat back to the bathroom and the door closes behind him. I can tell Prim is dying to ask me about this recent development but she wisely stays quiet, making an excuse of homework and retreats to the living room. For a teenager, she’s been low maintenance and incredibly easy to get along with. I can’t thank her enough for letting Gale and I sulk in silence these past few weeks. 

I finish up the dishes and clean up the table. The water must have been warm enough because Gale doesn’t come back out to say otherwise. He wouldn’t complain even if it wasn’t, it’s not Gale’s style. I decide to warm up one more smaller pot of water and bring it to him. 

Carefully avoiding Prim’s curious eyes, I remove the water once it’s reached a slow boil and carry it back to the bathroom. He’s sitting in the tub, knees scrunched up so that his long legs mostly fit in, head thrown back and eyes closed. 

I creep in the room slowly, closing the door behind me. It creaks, alerting him to my presence. I can see him move to cover himself up but the bubbles and darkening water from his soot stained skin have mostly taken care of the task. He relaxes back but keeps his eyes trained on my face. I blush slightly, beginning to think this was a bad idea. 

“I just thought I could come sit in here with you. You’ve been so busy lately, I’ve missed you. I thought the water could using warming up.” I say raising the pot in gesture. His eyes soften. Neither of us says what we both know this to be; I’m sorry. 

“The higher quota and extra hours have been tough. Sorry I haven’t been around as much.” 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” That’s a loaded statement we both decide to sidestep for the time being. 

I sit down next to the tub ignoring the wet patches of floor. Carefully, I pour in the water to the tub a little at a time so as to not scorch his skin. He simply stares at me as I proceed with my task. Finished, I set the pot down next to me and draw my knees up to my chest, my arms wrapped around them tightly and my cheek resting on my knees. Our faces are mere inches from each other and I can’t help but take in the strong planes of Gale’s bare chest and shoulders. His eyes flutter closed and he exhales deeply. He shifts his hand so that his thumb can trace circles on my bicep. 

I hadn’t realized how much I missed his presence. For a lot of the last three weeks straight, he was passed out on the couch from exhaustion long before I came to bed and was up before me each morning. More nights than I care to count, he didn’t come home before I went to bed at all. I don’t need to tell him with words how much I hated him staying on the couch, how empty the bed was without him in it. He already knows and I can see that he hated it too. We’ve been mad at each other before but never had a blow up quite like this. Unspoken words of apology and forgiveness hang between us. 

I’m struck with the sudden urge to tell him how much I appreciate all he does for Prim and I. He’s been spending 10 hours a day deep beneath the earth laboring away at a job he hates just to provide for us. The way he collapses into sleep shortly after dinner is telling of how hard it truly is but he always manages to listen attentively to Prim talk about school or her goat. He’s never short on smiles or laughs. 

He rolls his shoulders as if trying to relieve some of the pressure and tension from his long hours, seemingly content with me in the room. Neither of us try to address the glaring issues between us and I think, for now, it’s for the best. 

“You must be sore, working so much.” I blurt out in the silence, inwardly cursing my inability to filter my thoughts. 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He responds in typical Gale fashion, not showing any weakness. 

“Here, let me.” I say shifting to sit behind him on my knees. Before I can lose my nerve, I put my hands on his shoulders and start working out the knots at the base of his neck. He tenses momentarily, barely enough for me to notice before dropping his arms to his side in the water and leaning forward slightly to give me more access to his back. 

I allow my hands to say everything I don’t trust my mouth to say. Like kneading dough I apply consistent counter pressure to his muscles, molding and caressing it beneath my hands. There’s something incredibly intimate in seeing him relax into my touch, allowing me to care for him as he’s so aptly done for me lately even if I haven’t done much to deserve it. It’s striking to me how he’s able to bare himself so easily to me. Each press with the heel of my hand wills him to understand my gratitude, each soft stroke of my thumbs is an attempt to explain how much I miss him when he’s gone. 

The electricity in the room thickens, hanging like a heavy curtain over both of us, neither of us willing to break the spell between us by speaking. The longing in my heart to have him closer, to show him how much he means to me feels like a taunt string between us. Without thought, I lean forward and softly place my lips on the chiseled muscle just below his neck. His skin is damp, warm and smells of our homemade soap but beneath it is the familiar masculine, pine scent of Gale. I breathe in deeply and a flutter of butterflies takes flight in my stomach. I pull away slowly and wait for him to react. 

The sun has dipped behind the tree covered mountains of District 12 and it isn’t late enough for the moon to be high enough in the sky to illuminate the room through the very small window. Gale’s water sprinkled skin glows a rich tan bathed in the light of a single nub of a candle giving him an ethereal beauty. 

He shifts in the tub and reaches around to grab one of my hands that are still massaging small circles into his back and pulls me around to the side. My heart feels like it’s beating into my throat but for once, it’s not out of nerves but anticipation. I oblige and kneel next to him, poised forward slightly to study his face. His hand reaches up to cup my face, still dripping with bath water, the only sound between us is the unsteady drip, drip, drip, as the water falls back into the tub. His thumb caresses my cheek and moves to explore my forehead, curves around my eye, down my nose, and lightly traces my lips, his eyes cataloging each feature as if committing them to memory. Unwilling to let him go so soon, I bring my hand up to cover his and place a soft kiss on the pad of his thumb. He pulls my face closer to his resting my forehead on his and I lace my fingers through his still cupping my face. 

“I miss you when I’m gone. Every second of every day.” He whispers quietly to the minimal space between us. “My day is complete when I see you sitting on the front porch or standing in the kitchen, just knowing that you’ve been waiting for me. Did you know you do that? I can see the exact moment on your face when you know I’m home.” 

My eyes never leave his moving lips, following the arch of his cupid’s bow top and the fullness of his bottom lip as they caress his words. I want to desperately feel it between my own so I pull him in closer, trapping his plump bottom lip between my own, the first kiss I’ve given him willingly. Once isn’t enough and I find my tongue tasting him. He kisses me back, opening his own mouth but letting me control the depth and pace. I easily fall into the pattern of kissing his pliable lips and tangling my hands into his damp, dark hair. I’m overwhelmed with the feeling of needing to have his chest pressed up to mine, my heart beating a strong rhythm longing to feel the reverberation of his own. Flush and overwhelmed I pull my lips back from his, breathless. 

“The water is getting cold.” I stutter. 

“I know.”

“Your skin is staring to prune.” 

“I know” 

“You should probably get out of the tub soon.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He whispers, still clutching my face, forehead to forehead. I pull back enough to kiss his forehead gently and rock back on my heels to stand. He lets me pull away like sand slipping through his fingertips and watches me cross the room. I slip out the door with a small smile on my face and close the door behind me, allowing him to dry off in privacy. 

I’m not ready to voice it aloud yet but he knows the barrier between us is broken. I tell Prim I’m going to bed early tonight and head off to our room, change for bed, and slip in between the sheets. I’m not tired but I’m not willing to let Gale sneak off to bed without me tonight. I can hear the door close softly and his bare feet pad across the wooden floorboards. He pulls back the blankets letting in a gust of cold air before he slides in and curls up around me, arm thrown over my waist pulling me close, his knees bent perfectly in the space behind mine and his face nuzzled into my unbound hair. I lace my fingers through his over my stomach and pull him even closer. I can feel his heart beating through the thin fabric of my nightgown as we cling to each other in the darkness. With the patience of a hunter I lay still willing my breath to be even to match his as he falls into a deep slumber. Here in the darkness I can admit what Gale has always known. Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable.


End file.
